ETC
by catyasdo
Summary: In 1960, Lt. Elizabeth Townsend was stationed at Pensacola NAS, Florida. Little did she know she would meet the man who would change her life forever.
1. Author's Notes

## **Author's Notes**

First off, I better explain a few things. In 1983, when RETURN OF THE JEDI first came out and the world heard the truth about Luke, my first thought was "What was Mrs. Skywalker like?" I wanted to know HER story. The same thing happened as QL progressed: What was Beth like? How did she win Al's heart? I had all sorts of ideas and stories, including one that would have put her back in Al's life without a leap (pre-MI). When the show went off the air, all I had left was the novels. It wasn't until around April 15, 1997, that I had full Internet access and the chance to look at other fan fiction. I wish to thank all of the authors, from the bottom of my heart, because some of your ideas have smoothed out wrinkles and writer's block in my story. For instance, I had the hardest time coming up with a reason "Georgia On My Mind" was their song (for my version of things) and reading Ms. Walton's short story "Little-Bit" gave me an idea (it's her idea, with some modifications).

Questions? Comments? E-mail me (Please be gentle. Lost Sheep are easily upset).

**This was originally written in 1997. It is posted several on my homepage as well as a one or two other fanfic archives.**

THIS IS BASICALLY ABOUT BETH AND IT'S FOR THOSE OF US WHO WONDERED ABOUT HER. IF YOU HATE HER, SKIP IT ENTIRELY.

Quantum Leap belongs to Universal and Don Bellisario. My apologies to any real relatives of John Paul Jones. It was just a crazy idea. No money was ever made off of this piece of fanfic.

[Christina L. Bartruff][1]

   [1]: mailto:catyasdo@earthlink.net



	2. Friends and Lovers

## **Chapter 1: Friends and Lovers**

**0500 HRS. MONDAY, JUNE 6, 1960. NURSES' BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS, FLORIDA**

Lieutenant Elizabeth Townsend liked Pensacola. She wasn't crazy about Navy pilots.

"They're not so bad," Lisa Sherman told her, sleepily. It was 0200 in San Diego and her shift had just ended. Beth's shift was due to start.

"Lisa, you were married to one who cheated on you every time your back was turned. How can you say that?"

"I was referring to Bingo."

"Who?" Beth never could get used to the nicknames, or "call signs" as they preferred, that the pilots gave one another.

"You know, the one I was seeing for a while. The one who dumped me because I was divorcing Jack.".

"Oh. Wait a minute. _You_ dumped him, because he didn't want to marry you."

"Same thing."

It wasn't but Beth didn't want to press the issue.

"Anyway," Lisa continued, stifling a yawn, "Al's down there now, probably on sea duty, so you'll get a chance to see for yourself."

Beth was confused. "Who's Al?"

"Bingo. That's his real name. Albert Calavicci."

_Like calla lilies_, Beth thought.

"George Whitmore-Jones and Harmon Rabb are pretty decent, too, but I think Rabb has a girlfriend he's pretty serious about. Helen Something-or-Other." Lisa sounded like she was speaking with her eyes closed and her head resting on her arm.

Beth didn't have the heart to tell her best friend that she wasn't interested in dating the pilots. Instead she said with genuine sincerity, "Get some rest, Lisa."

Beth hung up the phone and headed back to her room. She passed several of her fellow angels of mercy.

"Was that Lisa Sherman?" asked Janet Thomas, her Bostonian accent noticeable.

"Hmm. She says 'hi'. Just finished her shift." It was doubtful that Lisa knew Janet. Janet, however, knew Jack Sherman, Lisa's ex-husband. Jack 'landed every blonde from here to Norway', as Lisa told her. Janet Thomas and Lenora Dubois were just two of the many at Pensacola Naval Air Station that shared Jack's bed. She wondered how many more there were.

"Is the divorce final?"

"Yes."

Janet nodded vaguely, and Beth to her room.

_Gentlemen prefer blondes_, Beth thought. She never liked that saying. There wasn't anything gentlemanly about Jack Sherman's behavior toward her friend.

Picking up her brush, she ran it through her shiny black hair. Her hair was the same shade and length as Jacqueline Kennedy's. Several people had even stopped her on the streets, thinking she was the senator's wife.

There was a light tap on the door and Kelly Hardy, a redhead from Savannah, Georgia, entered.

"The carrier group should be back by the end of the week," she informed Beth ecstatically. Kelly's boyfriend was an officer on one of the destroyers.

Beth smiled. The young woman continued to chat away about her boyfriend Tom Crenshaw. Beth was only half listening as she finished getting ready for work.

Two weeks after the carrier group had departed, Beth arrived at Pensacola. Kelly immediately became attached to her and appointed herself as Beth's tour guide and shadow. Beth couldn't understand why Kelly did this, but didn't have the heart to tell the enthusiastic redhead to go away.

They did not have much in common. Kelly was born and bred in Savannah, Beth was born in Greenbelt, Maryland and was raised in Columbus, Georgia. They were both nurses and that was about it.

"Anyway," Kelly was saying, "Bingo promised me he would make seafood gumbo when he came back, so I'm going to make him keep his promise this weekend. Tom loves seafood gumbo."

"Who?" She was beginning to sound like an owl.

"Bingo. Tommy's friend. They were in the same year group at Annapolis."

"Listen, Kelly. I've got to finish getting ready."

"Oh. OK. I didn't mean to hold you up," she apologized, heading for the door.

The door closed behind her and the room was blessedly silent once more. Beth checked her appearance one last time, straightened her collar, and nodded, satisfied.

_Time for another fun-filled day_, she thought as she headed out the door.

**1200 HRS. MONDAY, JUNE 6, 1960. HOSPITAL CAFETERIA, PENSACOLA NAS**

"I can't believe they moved the departure date up two weeks," Janet said over lunch. "Two carrier groups departing at once and a third returning. This place is going to be a zoo."

"I know," Lenora sniffed. "Kelly's on leave, Renee's mother is in the hospital, Cathy's on bed rest, Margo's on her honeymoon, and Phyllis, Caroline, and Samantha left for the Nursing conference in Washington."

Beth continued to munch on her salad, in silence.

Lenora sighed and continued. "All those fly boys passing through for the flight physicals."

"I've told Commander Layton that I will handle records," Beth informed them. She didn't have to look up to know that the two were smiling at one another, satisfied. Records were the worst job and none of the other nurses would have volunteered. Beth didn't mind, however. In her opinion, jet jocks were a conceited bunch of braggarts and she would prefer not to personally handle an entire air wing. Let Janet and the others flirt and simper over them.

"Now, Janet, do you have anything special planned for George's homecoming?" Janet was George Whitmore-Jones' girlfriend, and according to Kelly, Janet was frustrated by the fact that she hadn't succeeded, yet, in securing an engagement ring.

Janet made a face. "No, but I do have a few days yet." She smiled wickedly at her friend. "Is there anyone in particular you have made plans for, Lt. Dubois?"

Lenora's smile was just as wicked. "I've always had a taste for Italian. Kelly better think twice about her dinner arrangements this weekend, because Bingo's been at sea six months, and food is going to be the last thing on his mind."

_Not him again_, Beth thought.

"Good luck," Janet said sourly. "Phyllis tried for two months to catch his eye. She said he wasn't quiet himself since Theresa Cambridge was reassigned to Norfolk. Now he spends most of his time with those jets."

Her curiosity piqued, Beth said, "Will someone please explain to me everyone's fascination with this 'Bingo' person."

"Well," Janet said, leaning over conspiratorially. "Lt. Al Calavicci has a reputation with the ladies, if you understand my meaning."

"He's very polite and always a gentleman. He will not pressure you into doing anything you don't want, if you fail to fall to his charms," Lenora added. "He never take a 'no' personally. Before he met Theresa, he was seeing Samantha Freeman. Rumor has it that he asked her to sleep with him. She said no, but he didn't stop seeing her. _She_ ended the relationship a few months later when that Marine arrived."

"Also," Janet continued, "he never looked at another woman while he was involved with either of them."

"Renee," Lenora added, "tried to catch his eye when he and Theresa first started seeing each other. It came to nothing and you know how gorgeous Renee is."

So far, Lenora and Janet's story corroborated with Lisa's story about Al Calavicci.

"I think he was serious about Theresa, or very close to it," Janet mused. "Can't imagine what caused them to end it, other than her assignment to Norfolk, of course."

Beth shook her head as she rose to leave. "See you later. If anyone's looking for me, I'll be in records."

**1100 HRS. THURSDAY, JUNE 9, 1960. HOSPITAL, PENSACOLA NAS**

Beth cursed softly to herself.

Exhausted from pulling double shifts, she had over slept and was running behind at the hospital.

Beth had volunteered for double shifts because she believed, wrongly, that records would be easy enough for all-nighters.

Now, she couldn't find the file cart and was forced to carry a large stack of files in her arms. Moving briskly, she dodged two doctors, three pilots in their flight suits, the head nurse, and an orderly, without losing her stack.

Rounding the last corner with her destination in sight, she couldn't avoid colliding with another pilot, who wasn't paying attention to where he was going.

The files, including the one he was carrying, fell to floor. To her amazement, none of the documentation fell out.

Beth felt her cheeks turn red in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry," she started.

"No, it's my fault. I should've been watching where I was going," the pilot said, stooping for the files.

Beth got a good look at his face before he ducked down. Hair as dark as hers, cut to regulation, still had enough of a wave in it to suggest it was naturally curly. He had bushy eyebrows above dark eyes framed with thick, long, black eyelashes. He had smiled at her and it was turning her insides to mush.

Confused and flustered, Beth joined him.

He glanced at her reddened and tired face. "You look like you're at the end of your rope."

"Double shift," she explained.

"When's your lunch break?" he asked, handing her half ofthe files. He retrieved his own file and put it on the top of the other stack.

Beth realized several things as she watched him. First, how. . . alive. . . he felt. Without having to touch him, she could feel life and energy radiating from him, just like her grandfather. Second, that he was a hair's breath shorter than she and he was looking at her dead in the eyes, with a frank and appreciating look. Last, that he was waiting patiently for her to do and say something.

"I... That is . . . My break is in an hour," she stammered, "but I can't take too long because I over slept and now I'm behind." Beth knew she was rambling but she could help herself.

"What do you want for lunch?"

"Just a salad." The conversation was confusing. She couldn't understand why he wanted to know that. She turned and led the way to the records room. She was aware, however, that he walked slightly behind her, just enough to watch the way she walked. For the first time in her short Naval career, she didn't mind it in the least.

He set the stack down on the grey metal desk and took his off the top. "I'll go to the snack bar, bring back a salad, and we'll dine in the hospital cafeteria. It's the least I can do for knocking you down like that."

Beth laughed. "You didn't knock me over." She smiled at him.

For a second, the man stared intently at her smiling face. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"I arrived in January"

He held out his hand and she took it. It was warm and he didn't crush her fingers like some men did. She liked the way his hand felt. In fact, she liked it so much, she almost didn't hear what he was saying. "My name's Al Calavicci."

Beth stiffened and he released her hand.

Al raised an eyebrow. "I see you've heard of me."

"You've been the topic of choice among the nurses for the last week," she replied blandly.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Is my lunch plan OK with you?"

With one word she could back out, diplomatically and painlessly. So far, he was just as Lisa and the others had said he would be. _What would it have a quick lunch in a public place?_ Beth thought to herself. A good reason failed to come to her. "That sounds good."

His answering smile took her off guard, again. "Are you going to tell me your name?" he asked gently.

She blinked. Of course. She forgot. "Elizabeth Townsend, but I prefer to be called Beth."

"Nice to meet you, Beth."

After he left, Beth stood staring at the closed door and regained her equilibrium. _I hope I'm not making a big mistake_, she thought.

  
_Author: Christina L. Bartruff_   
_1997_


	3. The Path to a Ruined Weekend

## **Chapter 2: The Path to a Ruined Weekend**

**1200 HRS. THURSDAY, JUNE 9, 1960. HOSPITAL, PENSACOLA NAS**

"Beth."

The sound of her named, spoken by Al Calavicci, made her heart flutter.

In the doorway, holding a fresh salad and a pair of hot dogs with the works, stood the last person in the world she ever thought she would see again. In the last hour, Beth had managed to convince herself that Al Calavicci would forget all about her.

"The dogs are mine, unless you want one, of course. Are you ready?" He stepped out of the way to let her pass.

"I hope Lenora Dubois doesn't see you and get the wrong idea," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a couple of days ago, she mentioned that she had. . . . plans for you this weekend.."

Al chuckled and shook his head. "She's wasting her time. I won't lie and say that I would pass up an invitation, normally. It's just that I'm not in the mood to put up with her games."

It was her turn to ask him what he meant.

Al looked at her sharply. "Women like Lenora are after one thing. She's looking for a wedding ring. Lenora joined the service to find a husband. Once she has one, she'll get out."

"We are _not_ all like that," Beth said with anger.

"Yes, I know that, and I didn't say you were. My last girlfriend,Theresa, wants a career. She is going to succeed, and I don't think her less of a woman because of it."

Beth opened her mouth, then shut it. His response was unexpected.

The cafeteria was busy as usual but Al managed to secure a table, out of the way.

"You know," Beth started, after they had been sitting for several minutes, "I heard of you long before I was stationed here."

Al looked up, curious.

"Lisa Sherman. She was my sponsor and we became very good friends. She told me about you." Beth held his gaze with her own.

He appeared to mull over all the implications those words carried. Finally, he asked, "Is the divorce final?"

Beth nodded.

"Good." He seemed very pleased.

"Why? You weren't going to marry her."

"I'm glad because Jack was no good for her. He was cheating on her from the very beginning and he ignored her. I don't think he ever hit her or anything, but he's a real nozzle and she deserves better." There was a hard edge to his words and Beth sensed it would be a good idea not to mention Lisa Sherman again.

"So," Beth said, several minutes later, "you approve of women who want careers instead of families?"

"Women can have both, you know." He was distracted by a line of catsup that was running down the side of his hand.

Beth stared at him. The women's movement was still in its infancy. Yet here sat a man, in the Navy no less, who believed in some of its doctrine. And by his overall frankness, Beth was sure Al Calavicci meant what he said.

"How did you end up in the Navy?" he asked.

_Careful_, she warned herself, _what he thinks of me will depend on how I answer that._ "My grandmother has a nursing background, and my mother always told me I took after her. It was also something I've always wanted to be. The Navy was the only way I could have afforded the schooling. And you?"

"I saw a movie once, where this kid ran away to join the Navy. He wasn't old enough, though. I remember the name of the movie."

"Do you remember if Frank Sinatra was in it?"

"Yeah. He was in it, come to think of it."

"'Anchors Aweigh'. My grandmother likes him."

"Anyway, I applied for an appointment to Annapolis. I wouldn't have gone to college either, if it wasn't for the Navy."

"And flying?" Beth knew she was taking a chance by asking him about flying. Last thing she wanted to hear was a long-winded speech on his flying abilities.

Al's face lit up and his eyes twinkled more than they had in the short time she'd known him. A look of pure joy crossed his face. "There's nothing else like it in the world. I would have to quote poets to come close to expressing what it feels like."

Beth blinked several times, expecting more. There was more, as it turned out.

"What I really would like next, is to join the space program, once all the bugs are worked ou, of course. To leave the Earth behind and explore the stars . . . That would be the ultimate freedom."

Caught up in the excitement, Beth smiled. "Go to the moon, maybe?"

Al smiled back. "Yeah."

They sat in comfortable silence and finished their lunch.

"I wish this area had decent Mexican food," Beth commented as the stood to leave.

"Do you like Italian?" Al asked as he walked her back.

"Yes, and I understand from Kelly that you're a gourmet."

"Yeah. I usually like to whip up some authentic Italian meals when I get back to port, but I can't always get a kitchen. If I happen to be visiting George's family, I cook at least once while I'm there. Admiral Whitmore keeps offering a chef position at Evermore Castle." He shook his head. "I would love to prepare an old family recipe for you."

Beth smiled. "I would like that."

"Can I have lunch with you again?"

Beth thought about it. "Sure. Tomorrow. And I'd like to try one of those hot dogs. Just like you had. It looked pretty interesting."

He nodded. "Until tomorrow." And then he was gone.

_Now that wasn't so bad_.

Beth didn't need a psychological evaluation to understand her weariness. No one, not even Lisa, knew that Elizabeth Townsend was illegitimate and she had no clue to the identity of her father other than he was, at the time of her conception, a Naval pilot. For all she knew, he could have been killed in World War II.

Throughout high school and college, Beth lived with the stigma. She didn't date until college and than only sporadically. Of all the men she dated, not one made her feel the way Al Calavicci did with just his smile and his laugh.

Beth resolved to be more on her guard.

**1200 HRS. FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 1960. HOSPITAL CAFETERIA, PENSACOLA NAS**

"Just like you asked. The works."

Beth looked up from the hot dog that Al had set in front of her.

Al was sitting across from her, dressed in khakis this time, watching her. He looked good in that uniform. She found herself wondering how he looked in dress whites.

The dog was smothered with catsup, mustard, relish, onions, and sauerkraut. Gingerly, she picked it up and took a bite.

Pure heaven. True, it wasn't Mexican, but it beat another salad, no matter how much she loved them. She gave Al a thumb's up and he picked up his own dog.

"Thank you. It was delicious. Messy, but delicious," Beth said when she was able speak again.

"How do you feel about pizza toppings?" Al asked as he wiped his hands.

"Everything but the kitchen sink."

Visibly impressed, Al said, "I know this little pizza place that you would love. Unfortunately, it's too far for lunch."

This was different from a promise to whip up a meal. Looking him in the eye, she asked, "You're asking me for a dinner date?"

Both eyebrows rose. "It's your call. It doesn't have to be tonight or even this weekend."

Old doubts and fears started to work their way back into her thoughts. Beth had no qualms, now, of accepting lunch dates. A dinner date that required traveling was something different entirely. And there was his reputation to consider.

As if reading her thoughts, he added, "We could get a group of friends together and celebrate my birthday on the 15th."

Abruptly, she stood up. "I'm sorry, but I really need to get back to work. Thanks for lunch."

She turned and left before he stop her.

**1800 HRS. FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 1960. BASE EXCHANGE, PENSACOLA NAS**

Beth double checked her purchase against to her shopping list: toiletries, hose, a new novel (which wasn't on the list; it was a treat), sun tan lotion, a swim suit, a new sundress, two new pairs of shoes, the dry-cleaning, and contents for Gran's CARE package, including a crisp $100 bill.

Beth sat back in the driver's seat, thinking about her grandmother, who now lived alone outside Columbus. Beth last saw her at Christmas, before she left for Florida.

__

"Gran, I would really like you to move to Florida with me."

"Beth, I'm too old and set in my ways to be traveling the world with you." She had paused and touched Beth's cheek. "Besides, you're young and you need to live your own life. I can't bear the thought of you wasting your life away, looking after me. You've given up on so much and have lost so much already, dear. Please don't throw away any chances at future happiness."

Beth sent her money every month and claimed her as a dependent. One of Grace Townsend's neighbors looked on her daily and drove her to Fort Benning at least twice a month. But Beth still felt guilty.

The sound of a car horn brought her back to the present. She turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot.

**2015 HRS. FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 1990. AL'S BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

He stood in his room, looking into the night, thinking.

Thinking of her.

She was lovely.

Her beautiful smile took his breath away every time she smiled at him. She had the most beautiful warm, brown eyes he had ever seen, even when they flashed with anger. He could still feel her soft hand, even though he held it only for a few brief seconds.

In the barely two hours Al Calavicci spent in the presence of Elizabeth Townsend, he had learned that he must tread carefully with her.

_Slow down, buddy boy_, he cautioned silently, _or you'll scare her away._

"If you haven't already," he muttered aloud.

He turned away from the window and sat down at his desk. He picked up his book, again, and tried to read. It was no use; his mind drifted back to her.

He stood up, again, and began pacing . . . again. Inevitably, his footsteps led him to his window. It was the fifth time that evening he had gone through the same drill.

He ran through everything he knew about her: her name, rank, and job. She liked salads, Mexican food, Italian food, pizzas with everything on them, and hot dogs with the works. She knew Lisa well enough for Lisa to tell her about him.

There was a rap at his door, followed by George's familiar voice as he entered the room.

"Hey, Al. Aren't you coming with us to the Officers' Club?"

Al didn't turn. "No. Not tonight. I heard Lenora's is trying to get her claws in me and I'm not in the mood for her games."

He heard the door close behind him and George came over to stand beside him.

"Same with Janet. Unfortunately, she rather not risk losing me and she'll do anything to make me happy."

Al didn't respond nor did he look at George.

"Al?" There was concern in his friend's voice.

He turned and looked at George.

"Are you OK?"

A plan began to form in Al's mind. "Will you do me a big favor, George?"

**2045 HRS. FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 1960. OFFICERS' CLUB, PENSACOLA NAS**

George Edward Phillip Whitmore-Jones, a descendent of John Paul Jones and a long line of aristocratic British Naval heros, shroud across the O'Club parking lot. Running to keep up was his current girlfriend, Janet Thomas.

Al had asked him to find Kelly, ask her "What's new?", and then listen for, and remember, anything pertaining to Lt. Elizabeth 'Beth' Townsend.

This didn't surprise George. Since the first time they met at Annapolis, George was aware of Al's fondness for the opposite sex. He loved women and he loved being with them.

What surprised George was, why hadn't Al talk to Kelly himself? Al had already sweet-talked himself out of preparing dinner for Kelly and Tom, so he had no reason to avoid her.

Of course, if Lenora was on the prowl, Al was safer where her was.

George never heard of Elizabeth Townsend, in the last two days, until Al spoke her name. Granted, he had been busy and hadn't had the chance to fill up on current gossip.

Sitting outside the O'Club was Lenora. She recognized George and immediately looked past him. But Janet was the only other person outside.

_Hussy_, George thought disdainfully.

"Where's Al?"

George shrugged. "Maybe he had a few things to take care of."

He opened the door for Janet, but she had stopped to talk to her best friend.

"He might be here in a few minutes, Lenora. If not, you could always check back at their place or our place."

"But no one will be at our place to tell him where we are!" Lenora protested.

"Yes there is. Beth was engrossed in some book earlier. She'll be there, I'm sure of it."

_Well, well, well_, George thought, frowning.

George was still holding the door open for Janet and she thought the frown was for her. She rushed past him. George didn't bother looking back at Lenora.

"Where's Bingo?" Chip asked as soon as George stepped up to the bar.

_Here we go again_. "I don't know."

Chip wasn't buying it. The problem was that they all knew each other too long, and well enough, to know when one was lying. Surprisingly, Chip didn't push the issue.

With a beer in one hand and Janet's arm in the other, George scanned the booths until he found Tom Crenshaw and the lovely, but talkative, Lt. Hardy.

"May we join you?" he asked politely.

Kelly was thrilled. Janet wasn't.

"Oh, sure. If it's OK with Tom?"

Tom shrugged.

George slid in first, so he'd be facing Kelly. Janet reluctantly slid in next to him, facing Tom. Sometimes, being the closest thing to royalty, had its advantages.

"So, Kelly, what's new around here anyway?"

**2345 HRS. FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 1960. BOQ REC ROOM, PENSACOLA NAS**

"You owe me, big time."

Al, who had been shooting pool since George left, looked up. He had given up on reading. Pool took less of his concentration.

George was furious, that much was obvious. "What happened?" he asked, mildly surprised.

George didn't answer him. He jerked his head up and Al followed him upstairs.

"Did Lenora stop by here?" George asked as they entered Al's room.

"Not as far as I know. I was in the rec room all evening."

"Well, she was waiting for you outside the Club. Janet assured her that you would show up there, or at the Nurses' BOQ, or that you would still be here. Anyway, I had to listen to Kelly give a run down of the local gossip in _alphabetical_ order. It took her an hour and forty-five minutes to get to Townsend who, by the way, was all by herself at the Nurses' BOQ the entire evening."

_Too bad I didn't know that earlier_, Al thought. _Maybe I could have talk to her._

George had already started again. "Then she went on for almost an hour about Townsend. Most of what she said is useless and I'm not sure I remember all the details. At some point, Lenora came back from wherever she had disappeared to and Janet went to talk to her. Janet was not happy, neither was Tom. Lenora left, Tom joined Chip in a drinking game, and Janet watched. Fortunately for me, there wasn't much, alphabetically, going on after Townsend. I had to make patch things up Janet, so we danced for a while. Tom was drunk so I drove Janet and Kelly back to their place and Tom over to building two."

"So, where had Lenora disappeared to?"

"Damned if I know. I wasn't in the mood to ask," George snapped.

The room was eerily silent. No jets, no music, no voices in the hall. Al remained quiet until he was sure George wouldn't bite his head off again.

"You know," George said several minutes later, in a more civil tone of voice, "Tom isn't the right guy for Kelly. I don't think he cares two bits about her."

"I agree with you. Tom is not the right guy for such a sweet kid like Kelly. If she ever shows up with bruises or becomes introverted, I'll rip his heart out personally." Al was dead serious. He had little tolerancefor men who felt they had to strike a woman especially since he had seen it first hand at North Island.

He paused and looked up at the tall, blonde pilot. "I'm sorry, George. Next time you feel obligated to take Janet to some upscale restaurant, I'll double date, even if means I taking Lenora. However, if I'm lucky, it will be Beth Townsend."

**1915 HRS. FRIDAY, JUNE 10, 1960. NURSES' BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

Once her purchases were put away, Beth got changed, grabbed her new book, and set out to have a cup of tea before the Friday Night Ritual began.

Tea ready, book in hand, Beth went undisturbed for a total of forty-five minute.

"Beth, could I borrow your black clutch?"

"Beth, could you zip me up."

"Beth, which dress should I wear, the blue or the red?"

"Beth, does this lipstick look good on me?"

"Beth, can I borrow that cute dress you wore to Margo's wedding?"

"Beth, I hate seeing you sitting alone every weekend." This was from Kelly. "Why don't you join us at the O'Club?"

"Thanks, but I would be a third wheel. You go have some fun." Beth reassured the redhead.

Kelly still looked anxious. It wouldn't be the normal Friday Night Ritual if she didn't.

As always, the halls fell silent as the women headed out in search of fun and romance. Beth preferred reading about romantic exploits.

She had left her watch in her room so she wasn't sure what time it was when the sound of Lenora voice startled her.

"Beth, has Al come by here or called?"

Lenora looked ticked. Beth shook her head.

"Where can he be?" she asked no one in particular. She turned and left.

Beth had to get up after drinking so much tea. She grabbed her watch while she was up and noticed that it was 2230.

Lenora returned at 2320, just as Beth was getting ready to go to her room. Lenora was angrier than before.

"The nerve of that man!"

"What happened?" Beth asked, stifling a yawn.

"He stood me up! He never showed up at the O'Club!"

Beth looked at Lenora, shrewdly. "Did he ask you to the Club?"

Lenora fidgeted, but did not answer.

"Lenora, how could he stand you up if he never intended to be there?"

"He said he might be!" she snapped.

"'Might' isn't the same as 'will', Lenora."

"Stop acting like a dorm mother, Beth Townsend!"

Beth drew herself up and coldly looked at the other woman. She sorely wanted to tell Lenora that she had warned Al. That knowledge was the only thing keeping Beth from slapping Lenora's face.

Further conversation was prevented by the arrival of Kelly and Janet, who were bickering as they enter the billet.

"You didn't have to sit there for nearly three hours and talk his ears off. He's my boyfriend, not yours."

"It's not my fault. He wanted to know what was going on. He _wanted_ to listen and could've told me to --"

"Put a sock in it, Kelly!" Janet snapped.

"For heaven's sake," Beth said, raising her voice, "they just got back from a six-month cruise! Give them a few days! They've been under a lot of stress!."

Janet, Kelly, and Lenora stared, dumbfounded.

Beth picked up her book. "Look, I don't know these men as well as you do. Maybe I'm wrong, and they're not as interested in you as you are with them. But give them the benefit of a doubt before you start pointing fingers and making accusations." She took a deep breath. "Now, let's get some sleep."


	4. Going in Circles

## **Chapter 3: Going in Circles**

**0800 HRS. SATURDAY, JUNE 11, 1960. BOQ PARKING LOT, PENSACOLA NAS**

As payback, Al had to wait until the next day to hear what George had learned from Kelly. After Al had apologized, George left saying he was too tired to talk anymore. 

He leaned against his black corvette and checked the time. For years now, if they were stationed at the same NAS, he and George had breakfast together every Saturday morning. They met mostly to reminisce about Friday night and it was always for 0800, regardless of how hung over Al was.

The pride of the Navy appeared and Al could tell that George was royally pissed off, but not at him.

_Either Janet or Daddy Whitmore called._

George tossed his dry cleaning in the back and climbed into the passenger seat. Al hadn't moved.

"Janet?"

"No."

Al climbed into the driver's seat. "So what did your old man want?"

"I hadn't 'reported in', and he went into his usual tirade."

"Give him some slack. He's up in DC, worried about what's going on down here. I'm sure _his_ father gave him hell, too, once." Al paused. "Speaking of which, how's your grandfather?"

George sighed. "Not so good. The doctors don't know if he'll make it through the year."

"That's what they said last year. He's an old sea dog, George. He'll go when he's good and ready, regardless of what the doctors say. In fact, I'll bet you he's holding on just to spite them."

George chuckled, his mood lightened. "You're probably right."

Neither spoke again until they were seated at the restaurant.

Their usual waitress appeared. "The usual today, Al?" By the tone of her voice, one would never have guessed that she hadn't seen either of them in six months.

"No, just some toast and coffee. Thanks."

The older woman arched her eyebrows and looked at his friend. "George?"

"I'll just have cereal and coffee, please, Margie."

"Quiet night, boys?"

Al and George looked at each other.

"Uneventful? Yes," Al started.

"Quiet? Not by a long shot," George finished.

Margie chuckled and left to place their orders.

"Have you decided on going to Miami for the Independence day weekend?" George asked.

Al could tell George was stalling, so he played along. He shrugged. "It depends." Al did not look at his friend. George would know what 'depends' meant.

Once more they sat in silence until Margie placed their breakfasts in front of them.

Al watched George toy with his cereal. "She's married."

George shook his head.

"She's engaged."

George shook his head again. "She doesn't even have a boyfriend." George looked him straight in the eyes. "According to Kelly, even if she did, it wouldn't be a pilot. Lt. Townsend apparently told Lt. Hardy that 'any woman involved with a Navy pilot should be in a straight jacket'"

"I wonder if she means Lisa, too?"

His friend looked surprised "How did you know she was a friend of Lisa's?"

"Beth told me herself."

"Why don't you tell me how the two of you met?"

Without glossing over details or embellishing, Al related the events of the last two days.

George listened in silence. When Al was finished, he said, "Well, like I said, most of what I have is useless."

"You don't know that," Al pointed out. "It's only useless if you don't know how to apply it."

"Well, according to Kelly, Beth turned twenty-four on April 27. She was raised outside Columbus, Georgia but not born there. Kelly believes she was born in Greenbelt, Maryland. She's Catholic, and as far as Kelly can determine, she's an only child. Beth hardly mentions any family at all except her grandmother and this led Kelly to believe that they're all dead or not on speaking terms with her." George paused. "Do you want to know how her room is decorated?"

"Kelly told you that?" Al was surprised.

"Why do you think I was gone for so long? Anyway, it's decorated in watercolors and pictures of flowers and gardens. In fact, gardening is her hobby. She had to give it up though, when she moved into the BOQ. She likes gardens in general, her favorite flower is the calla lily."

"What?"

"Calla lily. It's tall plant with a white, petallike leaf enclosing a clublike flower stalk. It's usually available around Easter and is very popular at funerals."

"Oh. You sound like a dictionary."

"Yes, I know. I looked it up, because I knew you would ask me what it was. Anyway, her favorite colors are pastels. Particularly, but not limited to shades of blue and purple," George said in a singsong tone of voice. Al bit his tongue to keep from laughing.

"Also, according to our informant, she likes frills, ruffles, and lace. And she has this darling little bed and curtain set."

This time, Al couldn't help himself. Unfortunately, he was sipping coffee and nearly choked.

George grinned. "I choked on my beer last night and Kelly nearly fainted."

"I supposed," Al said as he wiped tears from his eyes, "she has a vanity set, too?"

"Yes. It's an antique and so is her canopy bed."

"She gave up gardening and doesn't date. What does she do when she's not at work?"

"Reads, takes long walks, and searches for a good Mexican restaurant that serves hot spicy food and ice cold beers."

"A woman after my own heart. Anything else?"

George gave him a strange look. "Only that Layton considers her the best nurse on staff. She impressed Layton so much in the first week, that Layton made her shift supervisor." Layton, the head nurse, wasn't easily impressed.

George was still looking at him oddly. Al ignored him. Instead he picked up the bill and dropped a handful of bills on the table. Al like old Margie a lot, so he tipped her generously.

"Put that back," Al said as George pulled out his wallet. "I've got it covered."

"Why is it that you only want to pay when it's cheap?"

Margie had approached the table as Al and George were standing to leave. Al grinned at the older woman. "So I can leave a bigger tip for my favorite waitress." He handed over the bill and her generous tip. On impulse he gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"See ya next week, boys," she called out.

"I see your mood has improved. I must've said something useful."

"Very." Al felt practically giddy with excitement. "Oh, by the way, spread the word. Wednesday, we're going to Gino's Pizzeria."

"Thanks, I've already figured that out," George said dryly. He slid into the passenger seat. Al took his place behind the wheel.

"Al?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you forgetting something? About Beth, I mean?"

Al frowned at him.

"Are you turning in your wings?"

"Huh?"

"You are a pilot," George pointed out slowly. "She doesn't _like _pilots."

Al studied his steering wheel, lost in thought. "I can't put my finger on it, but I think she lost someone close to her. I can almost see it in her eyes when I look at her. Her heart's been broken, George." He looked out the side window. "I just know it has."

George was studying him with a solemn expression. George and his family were the only others, besides Maureen McGinty and her parents, who knew the full history of Al Calavicci. George would understand what he was trying to say because he knew Al had seen more tragedy and heart ache in his twenty-six years than most people see in a life time.

_A woman after my own heart_, Al thought as he put the 'vette in drive.

**0800 HRS. SATURDAY, JUNE 11, 1960. MESS HALL, PENSACOLA NAS**

Beth stared at her toast and coffee, lost in thought. She went over the things she said last night.

_You love to give advice_, she told herself, _but you don't know when to take it or when to listen to your ownI._

If everyone was being truthful about Al, then she should take _everything_ into consideration.

He wasn't currently involved with anyone. Unfortunately, this station had too many former girlfriends. And Lenora was a problem.

The only time he touched her was when he held her hand.

He asked her for her opinions and _listened._

He didn't brag about himself. _Well, a little when he was talking about cooking_. But he didn't go on and on.

He left the dinner date up to her and even made it less intimate by inviting everyone.

He was trying his hardest to see her without scaring her off. That much she was certain.

_And I didn't have the decency to accept or decline his invitation. I just walked off._

She took a bite out of her toast and studied the roster laying in front of her. The Washington group would be back on Sunday. The night shift supervisor, Renee, was still on emergency leave.

_But Samantha will be back tomorrow, so she can worry about the night shift herself_, Beth thought annotating the sheet. Samantha Freeman was the assistant night shift supervisor.

Beth raised her cup to her lips and stopped.

_Samantha._

Lt. Samantha Freeman was one of the few people Beth actually liked at Pensacola. The two women had hit it off from the beginning. However, they worked different shifts, so they saw little of each other.

Al had dated her.

She wasn't married now, or then.

She hadn't been reassigned.

She wouldn't sleep with Al when he had asked.

_She_ broke up with him when she found someone else she liked more.

Beth needed to talk to someone she trusted and she couldn't trust Lisa. Lisa _had_ wanted to marry Al.

Beth gathered up her things and headed back to the billets.

"Beth, have you been to the post office yet?" Kelly was standing outside Beth's room.

"No, but I'm on my way. What do you need?" Beth couldn't find her room key in her purse.

"I thought that you might want company."

"No. Not today." The key had gotten jammed into her wallet.

"Beth, I really need to talk to you."

She froze in the act of opening her door and turned slowly to look at Kelly.

Kelly looked miserable and the first thing that came to Beth was that Kelly was pregnant. That was only possible if she had been seeing someone in the last six months, while Tom was a sea.

But Kelly could look miserable over burnt waffles, so looks alone told her nothing.

"Go down and wait for me by my car. I'll be right out."

Beth sealed her grandmother's package after going through the contents one last time, and headed down. Kelly stood patiently by the car.

"Here's the plan: we'll go to the post office and then we'll go to the running track to talk," Beth told Kelly as they pulled away from the billets. The running track was deserted at this time on Saturdays and Beth liked to walk it when she needed to do deep thinking.

As instructed, Kelly kept her peace until they reached the track.

"I saw you and Bingo collide with each other on Thursday morning," Kelly started, hesitantly. "And later, I saw you at lunch with him."

Beth stopped walking and looked at Kelly. "Yes?"

"After work, he talked his way out of making a dinner this weekend and my first thought was 'Oh, good for Beth! Finally! Bingo will treat her right.' Yesterday, everything seemed fine when the two of you went to lunch. But I passed you in the hall when I was on my way to the cafeteria and you didn't even see me. You looked . . . tense." She paused and kicked a rock off the track. "He didn't look as chipper as he had Thursday. Bingo has a bounce to his step when he's happy. I guessed something was said at lunch."

Beth didn't trust herself enough to answer that, and she certainly didn't want to sidetrack Kelly.

Kelly went on. "You were your normal self again last night and I didn't know what to think. Then George showed up at the Club and immediately speaks to me. Me! He rarely speaks to me and before I knew it, I was telling him everything that happened in the last six months. Al never showed up and Lenora was pissed. So was Janet and," she heaved a deep sigh, "so was Tom."

_Trouble_, Beth thought.

"Well, it _was_ George Whitmore-Jones after all. He was so polite and thanked me for the information. Then everything started to happen: Lenora came back upset, Janet wanted to dance, and Tom was drunk, and I was being blamed for the ruined evening."

"It wasn't your fault," Beth told her soothingly.

"Yes, I know. It was your fault."

"WHAT?"

"I was so thrilled to be talking to George that I hadn't noticed how much he was paying attention until," she paused dramatically, "I went over it again. George was listening and he was interested in what I was saying. When I mentioned your name, he sat up straight and listened _very_ carefully. He seemed to hang onto every word."

"I've never met the man, Kelly." Beth was still stunned by Kelly's previous statement

"I know. And there's only one reason why George Edward Phillip Whitmore-Jones would go out of his way to find out all he could about someone he's never met before."

"Why?" Beth asked, stilled confused.

"Because Albert Calavicci asked him."

**1300 HRS. SATURDAY, JUNE 11, 1960. BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

George hung up the phone. Gino's Pizzeria was happy to accept a party of nearly one hundred of Al's nearest and dearest friends.

Al loved parties, throwing them and attending them. He was better at it than George, but George couldn't expect Al to throw his own birthday party.

The word-of-mouth invitation had already spread through the squadrons and the hospital. George had delegated most of the planning down to their other friends. One thing he didn't trust anyone with was Al's gift.

Al was a compulsive reader. He read almost anything as long as it kept his interest. He loved classical literature and George wanted to get him the complete works of Mark Twain.

He went back to his room and rummaged through his desk drawers for his wallet and keys. Janet and Lenora were at the beauty parlor, so he was free for the afternoon. He really didn't relish the thought of driving from bookstore to bookstore, but he preferred it to spending the _entire_ day with Janet.

Al was on the phone when George came back downstairs. _He must be planning a surprise for his own party_, George thought as he waved at Al.

The BX was his first destination. One could never tell and there was an off chance that the BX would have it on hand.

A young enlisted couple, no more than nineteen-years-old, stopped him in the BX parking lot to ask directions. George, whose grandfather and father had commanded at Pensacola, knew the base by heart.

If that young couple hadn't stopped him, George would never have seen Kelly sitting at one of the outside tables belonging to the BX's snack bar. Her back was half-turned to him but he would have known that crown of fiery hair anywhere. George didn't recognize her companion though.

The stranger wore a mint green sundress with a matching hair band and white sandals. George thought she looked a little like Senator Kennedy's wife, Jackie, and he had met the original. _She is pretty enough, I suppose_, George thought. He was seriously considering dumping Janet.

As George drew closer the possiblity that, the stranger in green being the mysterious Elizabeth Townsend, occured to him. If she was, he was out of luck.

"Hey, Kelly."

Kelly nearly jumped out of her skin and George realized that his tone had been too sharp. The frown on the stranger's face confirmed that.

"Sorry."

"That's OK. What can I do for you?"

"Where can I find the complete works of Mark Twain?"

Both women looked at him and blinked several times. _The library, dummy_, he thought. "At which bookstore can I find the complete works of Mark Twain?" rephrasing the question. If anyone had that type of information, it was Kelly. "It's a birthday gift."

"Let me give you the name of a guy --"

"I need it by Wednesday, Kel," George interrupted.

"I know that," Kelly snapped back.

While Kelly scrounged for paper and pen, George glanced at the stranger. She had watched and listened to the exchange without comment.

"George Whitmore-Jones," he introduced himself.

She smiled at him politely. "Elizabeth Townsend."

_Sweetheart, whether you know it or not_, George thought, _or if Al even knows it or not, you are the future Mrs. Albert Calavicci._ George could feel it in his gut.

Her smile had told him more than any of Kelly's reports could: this woman was close to being in love with a man she only met three days ago and who had a reputation that Don Juan and Casanova would have envied.

And she was totally at a loss of what to do about it.

**0930 HRS. SATURDAY, JUNE 11, 1960. RUNNING TRACK, PENSACOLA NAS**

"Are you sure?" Beth asked, barely audible.

"You just admitted never meeting George. He and Bingo are thick as thieves." Kelly paused to collect her thoughts. "Al doesn't kowtow to George. He hasn't, even from the first day at Annapolis. He treats George like an ordinary mortal. Al isn't George's friend because George has gobs of money and a family older than dirt. He's his friend because they share a love of flying, the Navy, women, baseball, and a hundred other things." Kelly shook her head. "The others are Al's friends and Al is the bridge between them. If it was left up to say, George and Chip, Chip wouldn't spend time with George."

The two walked in silence for several minutes. Kelly sighed and said, "I hate to say this, but Al treats people, women particularly, better than George. You're lucky that Al saw you first."

The silence was longer this time.

"Look, Beth I know I talk a lot and without thinking, but I never repeat a confidence. I only pass on. . .fluff. If you were to tell me that your parents are Communists, I would never tell another soul."

"What can you tell me about Al?" Beth asked, looking her in the eyes.

"Not a whole lot, I'm afraid, except the usual fluff," Kelly said honestly. "He's an enigma. Fun to be with and everything, but no one, other than George, can tell you anything really personal about him."

"Have you ever dated him?"

"No." Kelly made a small face. "Oh, I like him and all, but he's just a really good friend. I think of him as a big brother."

Beth wasn't sure if any of this helped or not. "Give me the fluff."

So Kelly told her. Al was from Chicago, was fluent in Italian, did summer stock, was a Golden Gloves Champion, was a great (and diverse) cook, and cared about the environment. He even graduated at the top of his class in high school, at the Academy (even higher than George), at flight school, and was an exchange student at MIT (in the last two years at the Academy). He loved parties, loved women, love to read, and so one.

Beth got an earful. Kelly confessed to never revealing a confidence, so if Al had told her a deep, dark secret, she would never tell Beth anyway.

"What did you say to George?"

Kelly, wanting very much to be trusted, launched into her recital about Beth.

Beth was a little annoyed at some of the things Kelly told George. By the time she ended her recital and started back to the car, both were hot, tired, and hungry. Kelly was thirsty.

"I'll treat you to lunch," Beth told her, parking the car in the BX lot.

"Thanks, Beth. I know you're mad at me," Kelly started to say.

"No, Kelly," Beth interrupted gently. "I'm not mad at you. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. When it's all said and done, it's not your fault anyway."

Kelly looked relieved and Beth felt better, too.

During lunch, Beth got the impression Kelly wanted to be trusted with the problems Beth was having with Al. "Listen, Kelly," Beth started, "I will tell you that I've heard a lot about Al when I was at Balboa. Fortunately, most of it's true and good. But I've just met him. There isn't anything to tell."

Beth was half-aware of the tall, blonde man walking up behind Kelly, but she ignored him.

"Hey, Kelly," the stranger said sharply. Kelly jumped, startled.

There was something arrogant in his manner. _He must be a pilot_, Beth thought. She frowned.

"Sorry," he apologized to Kelly.

Kelly seemed eager to please and Beth wondered if this was Tom Crenshaw. _But Tom's not a pilot._

"Where can I find the complete works of Mark Twain?"

_Is he serious?_

The man realized his error and rephrased his question. Beth thought him to be haughty.

_A birthday gift?_ In that moment, Beth was sure this was George. She wasn't impressed with him, and his brief exchange with Kelly did nothing to improve her opinion of him.

"George Whitmore-Jones," he said, confirming her suspicions.

Beth managed a polite smile. "Elizabeth Townsend."

He seemed distracted for a second, and then Kelly handed him the sheet of paper.

"Just tell him what you want. He;ll tell you if it's available in the area and where. If it's not, he can get it to you by Tuesday night, but only if you call _now_."

"Thanks, Kelly. You've saved me the trouble of driving all over the place this weekend."

"You're welcome."

"Oh, I almost forgot. Wednesday, Gino's Pizzeria. Everyone's invited. Word's been spread, but just in case, pass it on."

Beth waited until George was out of earshot. "What's Wednesday?" Beth asked, playing dumb.

"Bingo's birthday."

"Oh." _The complete work of Mark Twain?_

"Are you going?"

Beth shrugged. "I don't know."

**1000 HRS. SUNDAY, JUNE 12, 1960. NURSES' BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

"How was DC?" Beth asked Samantha Freeman the next morning. Samantha was busy unpacking.

"Humid."

"I hate to do this to you, but can I talk to you, Sam?"

"Sure." Samantha gave her a knowing look and Beth's first thought was _Kelly._

"What was that look for?" Beth asked.

Sam hung up her uniform and said, amused, "Because I know Al Calavicci better than you. I know he prefers brunettes and Lenora's already complained to me that she hasn't been able to catch his eye in four days. She's suspicious and thinks he's seeing someone else already. It would have to be you or Sarah Cunningham."

Beth stared at her friend, dumbfounded. _Sorry, Kelly._ "What makes you so sure it's me?"

Samantha laughed. "Something has you all perked up and confused."

Beth felt herself blush. "I'm not seeing him."

"Yet," Samantha added gently. "Al's very patient."

Beth was silent.

"Beth, he's a great guy. He won't pressure you, if that's what you're worried about. I told him no and he was very understanding." She paused. "I started seeing Gary before I broke it off with Al. Neither has ever found out, fortunately."

"And Theresa?"

"She felt he was getting too serious. The strange part is that Al never asked her to marry him or even discussed the possiblity of marriage and family. I guess she just assumed he was thinking along those lines. Then she was reassigned."

Beth was more confused than before. Her perception of Samantha and Theresa changed and not necessarily for the better. She excused herself and locked herself in her room. She could longer feel open with Samantha.

The only person who came out favorably was Al. He had been honest and up front with her from the beginning.

Beth lay on her bed and stared at her canopy. She had less than four days to decide whether or not she would go to Gino's.


	5. Happy Birthday

## **Chapter 4: Happy Birthday**

**1930 HRS. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 15, 1960. GINO'S PIZZERIA**

The place was packed.

There were plenty of beer, pizza, and snack foods.

People were dancing, singing (awfully), and laughing.

The music was blaring.

Everyone was happy and having a good time.

Except him.

His friends had outdone themselves this time. They had ensured that everything was perfect. Almost.

Al hadn't been too concerned, earlier. He figured she would come with a group who knew how to get there. Janet, Lenora, and Kelly had shown up at 1900 (George had arrived hours earlier to oversee the decorating). Kelly managed to get a moment or two with George, and Al knew Beth wasn't coming before George even looked up from his pizza.

Al kept up appearances as best he could. It was his party, after all, and he had to look as if he was enjoying himself. Even if he was depressed.

_I should have known_, he thought. Beth had avoided him all week and Kelly had been running interference for her. He cursed himself for moving too fast.

Lenora came up to him, wanting to dance.

"Go away, Lenora," he told her sharply.

Chip, standing nearby, sauntered over. "Hey, Lenora. I hear you're looking for a dance partner. I'm free." He took her arm gently.

"What's with him?" she asked, moving slowly.

"Oh, I think he found a grey hair this morning."

Al couldn't help smiling. Trust Chip to come to his rescue. With any luck, Chip would keep her occupied for the rest of the evening.

Kelly appeared at his side. "You're moving too fast for her, Al."

Al was startled. Kelly always looked and acted like an eighteen-year-old girl. At the moment, she looked and sounded her age. "I _can't_ go any slower. I'm at a stand still as it is."

"I know." Kelly looked over at her boyfriend. "Try cold pizza. She's pulling a double shift, so she'll be off all day tomorrow." And then she was gone.

Al had every intention of seeing her tomorrow. Now that he knew she would be there all day, he could try to see her earlier. If he failed to find what he had been searching for since Saturday, he would need that pizza as back up.

**2030 HRS. WEDNESDAY, JUNE 15, 1960. GINO'S PIZZERIA**

George was pleased with the sucess of the party. He only wished the birthday boy had been a little more enthusiastic.

For the first time since meeting him, Al hadn't gotten wasted on his birthday. Al had only three beers. It had taken him all night to drink the first two and the third was going flat in front of him.

Al had only danced five times. Twice with Kelly, twice with Janet, and once with Harm's girlfriend. During the gift presentation, Al had looked a little happier. For half an hour, he seemed to forget all the things that usually haunt him on his birthday, and Beth.

Al hadn't been the same since the summer of 1958.

That was the summer that Al had persuaded George into going to Illinois with him to get Trudy. Al had finally saved up enough, and it would be the first time in years that he had gone back home.

George would never forget the look on Al's face when that doctor told them that Trudy was dead.

The Chicago side-trip was canceled and George took him back to Evermore Castle. Al barely noticed. Upon arrival, Al locked himself in his rooms. George was forced to explain things to his father and grandfather (his mother was in France, thank God). Both elder Joneses had grown fond of Al, especially Grandfather Jones, and expressed deep sympathy for him. His father told him, had Al come to him while still at Annapolis, he would have brought Trudy to live with them at Evermore. George sometimes wondered how sincere his father had been.

Al had emerged from his rooms, changed. He hid it well, for the most part. Even so, the old gang from San Diego noticed when they were all reunited in Pensacola.

Last August, Trudy's birthday, Al went back to Illinois to visit her grave. The leave was already in for this August. George wondered if Al would see Maureen on this trip. If he hadn't secured Beth's attention by then, maybe he would pick up with Maureen again.

"Gino, could you box the rest of this one for me?" Al called out to the owner.

George was brought back from the past.

Al was looking over his gifts. The party-goers were leaving in small groups.

"Thanks for Twain, George," Al said, flipping through The Aventures of Huckleberry Finn. He lit a cigarette and sat back down. "The party was great, too. Thanks."

George looked squarely at his friend. "She knew. I mentioned it to her Saturday."

"She knew before then, George. Remember?" he replied quietly.

"Are you going to see her tomorrow?"

Al looked at the cigarette and put it out. It always took him several days to pick the habit back up. Al never smoked at sea. "I'll try."

**1130 HRS. THURSDAY, JUNE 16, 1960. NURSES' BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

It was a beautiful morning.

Beth sat on the steps outside the billets. She put out the cigarette she had been smoking and picked up her book. In less than five minutes, she was throughly engrossed in the story.

So engrossed, she ignored the sound of a car pulling into the parking lot. It was almost noon, and some of the nurses came back for lunch.

A shadow fell across her. She could smell pizza and. . . .calla lilies?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw what looked to be a pair of men's slacks. Beth didn't want to look up; she didn't need to. She should have known he had a two-day pass. Why hadn't she stayed inside?

"Do you know how hard it is to find calla lilies in this area?" Al asked her gently. He lay the bouquet across her book.

Beth's hands trembled as she picked up the bouquet. The book slid, unnoticed, from her lap. She cradled the bouquet as if it were a baby. "My favorite," she said softly.

Al picked up her book and sat down next to her. She still couldn't bring herself to look at him. Embarrassed and confused, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of the calla lilies. And pizza. _She_ had avoided _him_, yet he showed up with flowers as if asking for forgiveness.

"I'm sorry you couldn't make it last night. I hope you like cold pizza."

Beth finally looked at him, smiling. "I love cold pizza. What's on it?"

"Everything." He was looking at her with same look from Thursday.

"Thank you for the flowers. The guys I dated always had that problem. They would settle for red roses. If it has to be roses, I prefer white, yellow, or pink. In that order. They couldn't even get that right. Always red."

"I'll bet none of them spent four days on the phone or most of their birthday driving around trying to find them either. But I'll keep that in mind. White, yellow, or pink, in that order, and never red." He tried to hand her a slice of pizza.

The bouquet was too much. "I'll be right back. I promise."

Beth hurried to her room. She carefully filled a vase with water and lovingly arranged the tall, white flowers.

Setting the vase on her vanity, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her face was suffused with pink and her eyes were bright. She ruefully touched her cheek. She didn't stop to think. It only made things worse.

He was reading her book. "I hear you like to read."

"Yeah. Always have. It helps to pass time at sea, when I'm not flying or preparing for a mission."

"Yep." He paused. "I meant to ask you the other day, how you got hooked on Mexican food?"

"San Diego."

The rest of the lunch was finished in a companionable silence.

"This must have been heaven when it was hot," she commented. Beth looked at him and added, with sincerity, "I'm sorry."

Al returned her look and Beth saw he wasn't angry.

"George is taking Janet to some upscale social event on the 20th and I owe him a favor. George prefers to double-date at those functions, for reasons beyond me. If you say no, I will be forced to take Lenora. George threatened this on Tuesday."

"You owe him for Friday night?"

Al nodded.

Amused, Beth said, "I don't know."

"I'll beg if I have to," Al pleaded.

Beth laughed. "I'll go."

"Thank you," Al replied, relieved.

"How upscale are we talking away?"

"Well, you don't have to break out the ball gown and tiara, but something fancier than a sundress. It's an exclusive yacht club, and we'll be in our dress whites. Apparently, they're honoring their past presidents, and George will be representing both his grandfather and father. Then again, most yachting clubs issue special invitations to the family anyway." He paused. "You want to go for a walk?"

**1730 HRS. MONDAY, JUNE 20, 1960. NURSES' BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

The pink, the lavender, or the blue. Three dinner dresses were draped across her bed, and Beth was debating which to wear.

_Which would Al like?_ she caught herself thinking. She felt herself blush.

Beth hadn't seen him since they parted late Thursday afternoon. He told her he wouldn't see her again until Monday night. There was a new group of pilots, just graduated from flight school scheduled to arrive in a matter of days, and he would have his hands filled with them.

Al and Beth had spent hours talking (and walking) Thursday. They covered almost every topic, it seemed, from Communism to Civil Rights to the upcoming elections. He listened as much as he talked, and never once dismissed her opinion or view.

Even forewarned that he would not see her again, Beth had still expected him to surprise her by stopping by at some point. It surprised her how disappointed she felt that he hadn't and how anxious she was to see him again.

Curiously, Kelly had finally left her in peace. Of course, she was out nearly every night. So was Lenora. She was distracted by a new man in her life and it wasn't Chip. In fact, as far as anyone knew, the mysterious boyfriend wasn't even in the Navy.

The absence of Lenora made Janet somewhat pleasant and Beth concluded, left to her own devices, Janet was a really nice person. Someone Beth might like to get to know better. It also gave Beth hope that tonight would be fun.

Beth checked her watch. Forty-five minutes left.

She chose the lavender.

**1800 HRS. MONDAY, JUNE 20, 1960. AL'S ROOM, BOQ, PENSACOLA**

Al straightened his jacket again. Spotless, pristine white, crisp, and creased in the proper place. Shoes and gloves, just as white and spotless. He checked the alignment of his ribbons for the umpteenth time and brushed imaginary lint off his gold wings. He tried to pretend all this extra primping wasn't for Beth, be he kept wondering what her reaction would be upon seeing him in his whites.

Beth wasn't likely to fall into his arms and breathlessly beg to be 'taken'. She made read that stuff, but the impression he got said 'don't touch'.

And Al was willing to bet the Navy's budget that Beth had never been 'taken' by anyone.

Meaning, he had to go from a stand still into reverse, and for once he didn't mind in the least. He was looking forward to the day he could take her in his arms with that intention, but he also knew it was _very_I far off.

Bored with imaginary lint, Al picked up his cap and spare set of gloves. The limo would be there in ten minutes or so.

George was also on his way downstairs.

"Ready for stuff matrons and boring speeches?" George asked him good-naturedly. He handed Al the invitation with his name on it.

"Only if 'and Guest' is," Al replied impishly, indicating the envelope.

**1821 HRS. MONDAY, JUNE 20, 1960. NURSES' BOQ (YOU-KNOW-WHERE!!!)**

The younger, newer, nurses were staring at them.

George, Al could see, was eating it up.

_Probably looking for a replacement._ George had a tendency to pick silly women, but Janet was more sensible then some of the others, as long as you kept her from Lenora. It would be a real shame if he broke off with Janet, just to date a sillier girl. Al never could break him of this habit and had given up trying. Looks were not everything, as Al had discovered years ago.

For his part, Al ignored the other women. There was only one he was interested in, and Phyllis went to see what was keeping her.

Phyllis wasn't gone long before Beth appeared.

Al was enraptured, to say the least.

Beth's uncanny resemblance to the senator's wife let her get away was imitating her style successfully. The dress was simple, but elegant, as was her hair style and makeup. The dress was a lovely shade of purple, which set off her bright eyes.

Beth's face lit up when she saw him, as if she was surprised to see him there.

"Let's wait outside," he said offering her his arm. He realized, belatedly, that the usual pleasantries had been overlooked. Beth didn't seem to notice.

"You look lovely." Al wanted to say 'breathtaking', but he felt that would be too much for her to hear right now, even though it was the truth.

She was smiling at him, glowing, and Al began to doubt his abilities to restrain himself.

"Dress whites look better on you than khakis, and I thought you looked good in those." She paused. "I've missed seeing you these last few days."

Al, surprised and pleased with the admission, said sincerely, "I've missed you too." He had the vague feeling that they looked foolish, standing there, smiling at each other. Al didn't care.

George and Janet appeared and the four climbed into the limo. Beth picked up the invitation that Al had left on the seat. "'And Guest'?" she asked curiously.

"It could've had your name on it, but the deadline was last Tuesday," George explained.

Beth nodded and placed the envelope in her purse before Al could take it from her.

**MONDAY, JUNE 20, 1960. PENSACOLA YACHT CLUB**

Beth was enjoying herself, immensely.

Al had said very little through dinner. He spent most of the time looking at her, oblivious to everything else, and he didn't seem to care if it seemed odd.

This had left George with the responsibility of keeping the conversation going with the ladies, until members of the club started to drop by their table to pay homage to America's First Family of the Sea. Janet spoke with her, when she wasn't being introduced as George's girlfriend. Then the wives started to dropping by and Beth was left to her own devices, with Al looking at her.

The feeling wasn't unpleasant. If truth be known, she was elated. It seemed strange to her, that a week ago she was confused and avoided him man, and now she was content to sit there, blushing, while he stared.

"Whatever made you change your mind? About me, I mean?" Al asked her, wonderingly.

Startled, as though he had read her mind, she reddened.

"I was confused. I'm not used to attracting that much attention in such a short time. And of course, I knew you by reputation." She glanced at him. "It was more like clearing up the confusion, and you did that yourself."

Al looked at her, inquiring.

"The calla lilies. The invitation to Gino's and the way you tried to make it less intimate. The fact you weren't angry the next day and you behaved as if you did something wrong. You didn't have my name included on the invitation for tonight because you were still unsure if I would accept it. The fact that you don't brag about yourself endlessly and you actually listen."

The opening strains of "George On My Mind" brought Al to his feet and he held out his hand. She took it and they stepped out onto the dance floor.

The moment he put his left arm around her waist and took her right hand in his, she knew she belonged in his arms.

Safe. That's how she felt. There was something protective in the way he held her. She tentatively rested her cheek against his, closed her eyes, and moved in a little closer.

"If you ever feel I'm going too fast, just tell me," he whispered in her ear.

"This is fine," she reassured him.

"I wasn't referring to the dance."

Beth opened her eyes and pulled away far enough to look into his face. "I know what you meant." She held his gaze a moment longer. The emotions in his bright, dark eyes caught her breath. She pulled him closer and held on tight.

Beth lost count of the number of songs they danced to that night, but from that evening on, "Georgia On My Mind" was their song.


	6. Murder

## **Chapter 5: Murder**

**0800 HRS. TUESDAY, JULY 5, 1960. PENSACOLA NAS SHORE PATROL**

"When was the last time you saw Lt. Dubois, Lt. Townsend?" the investigator, a lieutenant commander, asked unemotionally.

Beth fought back the urge to cry. "1630 hours, July 4, 1960, sir."

"Did Lt. Dubois discuss her holiday plans with you, lieutenant?" 

"Yes, sir. She informed me that she would be spending the day with her boyfriend and . . .and that would not join the BBQ hosted by Lt. Calavicci."

"Do you know the identity of the boyfriend, lieutenant?"

"No, sir."

"How often did she see this boyfriend?"

"Almost every night, sir."

"Did Lt. Dubois tell you anything about this boyfriend?"

"Only that he was a civilian, sir."

"Nothing else? His profession? His name?"

"To the best of my knowledge, sir, I don't remember if she ever said anything more about him to me."

"Did you ever suspect Lt. Dubois was doing something illegal, Lt. Townsend?"

This startled Beth. "No, sir, that never crossed my mind."

"I have no further questions. Dismissed."

Beth came to attention. "Aye, aye, sir." She saluted and slowly left the room, followed by the scribe.

George, Chip, and Harm were waiting in the reception room Several yeoman were busy typing. Beth wasn't interested in them. She only cared about the person who stood up as she entered the room.

Al.

She burst into tears before Al could get both arms around her. He pulled her into his embrace and hugged her tight. Beth clung to him while the tears racked her body.

Lenora was dead.

Her body was found floating in the port that morning. The investigators were questioning everyone who might have come in contact within the last twenty-four hours.

Al stroked the back of her head and said nothing.

The tears had run their course and the sobbing subsided. Beth pulled away reluctantly. Al handed her some tissues, his eyes mirrored her sadness. He kept one arm around her shoulder

"Are you going to be all right?" Al asked her gently.

Beth nodded. "It's just the shock. I'll be fine."

Al touched her cheek tenderly and removed his arm from her shoulder.

One of the yeomen called Chip. Chip read over the statement he made earlier and signed it. Chip left after speaking briefly, and quietly, to the other pilots.

Beth went and stood by the window. Al followed her, but stood a short distance away, giving her some space.

_"I'm mot going the BBQ tonight, Beth. My boyfriend called and we're going to a little get together," Lenora had informed her. "Oh, remind Janet not to wait up for me."_

That was he last time Beth saw her. A burn emergency came up and Beth was unable to leave the hospital at the normal end of her shift. When she did get back to the billets, Lenora was gone already.

Al and the others had been staked out on the parade grounds for hours. It was a training holiday for the pilots, and the nurses and other shift workers came and went as scheduled. Everyone asked her about Lenora, even Al.

Later, Beth and Al took a little walk around the grounds, watching children and pets weave in and out around cooler, blankets, and lawn chairs.

"I love children," Beth had said, watching a young father with his little girl.

"I don't know if dragging them from duty station to duty station is good for them," Al observed, noncommittally.

She had looked at him, but he was already moving away.

Later, as they lay back to watch the fireworks, she had asked him about his comment.

"It doesn't seem stable, that's all," Al replied.

She had tried to convince him that most children were flexible and adjusted to the changes. It was something that happened to all military children and it was something that they had in common with each other.

"I see what you're trying to say, but I still don't think it's good."

Beth let the subject drop after that.

The next morning, she was awakened by voices in the hall and Janet sobbing in the day room.

Beth first thought had been, _Oh, God, something has happened to George_.

But Kelly and several other nurses were in the same state.

Levelheaded Patrice Winslow looked shaken but was not crying, so Beth asked her what was happening.

"The SP found Lenora's body at the port this morning."

Beth had felt herself go cold. "How? When? Does anyone know who did it?"

"Forensics is still doing the autopsy, so there aren't any answers to your first two questions. As for the third, the investigators have to finish the preliminary questioning before anyone can start pointing fingers."

The bureaucratic commander of the SP insisted that every nurse and doctor come down to the station to give statements. Unfortunately, the hospital staff just couldn't just up and leave to give statements. Layton was sending the nurses over in pairs.

"Lt. Townsend?"

The voice was unfamiliar, but the warm hand on her arm was. With a start, Beth realized that one of the yeomen had spoken to her and Al had touched her arm to get her attention.

She went to sign the statement, but Al gently took the pen from her. "Read it first, Beth," he told her quietly.

She nodded and breathed deeply to clear her mind.

Once satisfied that the statement said what it should say, she took the pen from Al and signed it. Now she was able to leave this place and get to work.

Al held the door open for her, and once outside she looked at him in surprise. "Aren't you staying to sign your statement?"

Al paused in the act of lighting his cigarette. "Beth, honey, I signed mine two minutes after Chip left. I just stayed to see if you were OK and that you made it back to work in one piece."

Beth closed her eyes. _Get it together, Townsend_, she ordered herself, _it's a mad house back there and they can't afford to have another nurse incapacitated_.

When she opened her eyes, Al handed her the cigarette and lit another.

"Do you think it was the boyfriend?" Beth asked.

Al considered the question. "If it was, those Keystone cops in there better get it together and starting to the local sheriff. The _only_ thing we know about him is that he was a civilian." Al shook his head. "Her autopsy had better turn something up or they will never solve her murder."

They finished their cigarettes in silence.

"Do you want me stop by after work?" Al asked her, opening her car door.

She sighed. "Please. I would like that."

As promised, he followed her back to the hospital. Once she was inside the building, she saw him drive off.

The staff was subdued. Patrice was there waiting at the main Nurses' Station. "The Public Affairs Officer doesn't want any of us talking to the local new hounds. In fact, pass any phone calls to the PAO or to Layton or to Jenkins." Jenkins was the hospital commander.

Beth nodded and pulled her to one side. "Anything?"

Patrice shook her head. "They eliminated accidental death and suicide right away. Layton looked pissed, though."

"How's Janet?" Janet, Lenora's best friend, had to be admitted to the hospital and sedated. The others, so far, had shaken the grief, if not the sadness, enough to get back to work and make statements.

Patrice looked at her watch. "I'll be checking in on her in half an hour. She was still out. Maybe she'll be able to shed some light. If she can pull herself together, that is."

Beth certainly hoped so.

Beth peaked into Janet's room on her way to the burn ward. Janet looked peaceful. Beth knew that it was only the drugs.

_Drugs?_ Beth stopped in her tracks. _Not Lenora!_ Lenora had faults, but _that_ wasn't one of them.

Beth resumed her course and tried to remember anything that would have hinted to a drug habit. But memories continued to fail her.

Once in her ward, she flipped through the charts to see who needed attention.

_So many children this year_, she observed. Beth didn't feel mentally prepared to handle the sight of children with burns on their little bodies. _But it's my job and those children need me_. 

Beth's first stop was a minor injury. The little girl's name was Melissa, about nine, and had a minor burn on her forearm. She looked to be in good spirits.

Her parents nearly bit Beth's head off.

"Finally! We've been waiting two damn hours!" her father, a Marine, informed Beth as she entered. Beth couldn't get pasted him.

Beth became instantly calm. She tilted her head to one side. "I'm sorry. No one told you of the tragedy the hospital suffered this morning. One of the nurses died, and an investigation is under way."

"I don't care about some investigation. This is a hospital. One death shouldn't halt operations."

"We're going to our congressman and see that someone gets reprimanded," his wife added.

Beth held out the clip board and pen. "If you wish, please file a complaint while I see to your daughter's arm. I hope more of our patients feel as you do. Maybe all the attention will force the investigators to change their mind."

Beth was being absolutely sincere with the couple. If nothing else, it would give them something to do, instead of holding her up. They were looking at her, startled.

"The SP wouldn't listen to us when we told them we couldn't leave our patients. They refused to come here to conduct the interviews and insisted we go there. Maybe the station commander will listen to our patients."

The father took her clipboard. He and his wife went in the corner to hash out their complaint. Beth could now attend to their daughter.

"Now, sweetheart, let me see your boo-boo."

**1200 HRS. TUESDAY, JULY 5, 1960. LAYTON'S OFFICE, PENSACOLA NAS**

"Whatever possessed you to do something like this, lieutenant?"

Beth could not tell if the head nurse was angry or impressed. Lt. Cdr. Shirley Layton was difficult to read on the best of days.

"I don't know whether to reprimand you or put you in for a commendation," she continued before Beth could answer. "On the one hand, I did not want Lt. Dubois' death common knowledge. On the other, having those patients vent their frustration on paper prevented time-consuming confrontations, and persuaded Admiral Johnson to order Commander Lucas' investigators to come here. Every one of these, which you personally collected, has something nice to say about you. 'Very helpful and professional', 'took the time to listen', 'very sincere'. That ensign says you have a beautiful smile. Even that father, the Marine you saw first, was impressed with you. In fact, he is responsible for spreading the word. These," she indicated a rather impressive stack on the corner of her desk, "started coming in because of him."

"It was the only way I could get to see his daughter, ma'am."

"Hmm."

"And I did believe it would help us, ma'am. If nothing else, it has prevented a few unnecessary congressional inquiries."

"There still may be inquiries, lieutenant, but at least we took the time to listen to our customers."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Sit down, Beth."

Beth was startled. _First name **and** permission to sit_.

"How are you holding up?"

"Better than I first thought, ma'am. Keeping busy has always helped."

"Yes, I can see that. You are magnificent under pressure, lieutenant. The stress doesn't seem to get to you very often."

"I try to eliminate stress in other aspects of my life, so the stress here isn't compounded, ma'am."

Layton nodded. "I've seen you walking. I've noticed that you've found a walking companion."

Beth looked at her superior officer in surprise.

"I've met the man. Freeman or Cambridge, I can't remember which, brought him to my annual Christmas dinner. My cantankerous mother-in-law was visiting and he flirted outrageously with her. She actually stopped complaining and laughed at all his jokes, then talked his ears off. She was surprisingly bearable for the remainder of her stay with us. Of course, Lt. Calavicci had to give up a Sunday afternoon and visit with her. He hadn't minded in the least."

Beth smiled at this.

"If you would, please have Yeoman Fraiser see me, on your way out dear."

Dismissed in such an unusual manner, Beth aimed for middle ground. "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, and lieutenant?"

"Yes, ma'am?" Beth asked, turning around immediately.

Layton smiled mischievously. "Good work."

Beth left, wondering exactly what she meant by that.

**1900 HRS. TUESDAY, JULY 5, 1960. RUNNING TRACK, PENSACOLA NAS**

Beth sat on the bleacher's lowest seat. Al sat down next to her.

Sensing that she didn't want conversation, just company, they had walked in silence. She seemed so distant. She hadn't even taken his arm as they walked.

Beth leaned forward, with elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands.

Al quickly turned to straddle the bench.

Leaning forward to peer at her, he asked "Are you OK?"

She nodded. No sounds were coming from her and there were no other signs of crying.

Al rested his hands on his knees and leaned even further over. "Beth, honey, what's wrong?" He didn't dare touch her.

Beth straightened up and looked at him. Her eyes were dry, but her face looked pinched, as if she had a headache. Without preamble, she slid along the bench until she sat between his legs, wrapped her arms around his waist, and put her head on his shoulder.

Before this morning, the only time he even held her this close was on the dance floor. They never held hands as they walked, nor had he attempted to kiss her. He was so shocked by her actions, it was several seconds before he put his arms around her.

"Do you mind if I tell you about my day?" she asked him tiredly.

"No," he said gently. "I've been waiting for you to do just that."

He leaned his chin on her head and listened to her talk about Melissa and her irate parents, the ensign who thought she had a beautiful smile (no argument there), the complaints and Layton's reaction to them, and the suspense that hung over the hospital. She even related the rest of her conversation with Layton.

"She told me 'Good work', but I'm still not sure what she meant by it," Beth was saying. "She wore a mischievous smile when she said it."

Al chuckled softly. "From my experiences with her, Beth, I think she was referring to both me and those patients. She was young once too, you know." He could feel her smile on his collarbone, and then the smile began to fade.

Beth pulled away and looked him in the eyes. "Al, something occurred to me when I looked in on Janet. Earlier, the investigators asked if I suspected Lenora of doing anything illegal and I said no. Nothing about her gave me that impression." Beth bit her bottom lip. "Janet was sedated and I remember thinking how peaceful she looked. Of course, I said to myself 'It's just the drugs'. What if the SP suspects Lenora's death was drug related, Al?"

Al shook his head firmly. "No. Not Lenora. She felt too strongly about that."

"Patrice said Layton was upset and Layton said there might still be inquiries," Beth pointed out. "If it _is_ true, what could possibly drive a person with her convictions, to take drugs?"

Al didn't have any answers for her.


	7. Good-bye, Lenora

## **Chapter 6: Good-bye, Lenora**

**2000 HRS. FRIDAY, JULY 15, 1960. POST CHAPEL, PENSACOLA NAS**

Services for Lenora Dubois were finally being held. The investigators had given the go-ahead earlier that week.

Beth's fears were put to rest: no evidence was found to support drug use. Cause of death was strangulation and she had been dead several hours before her body was dumped. The investigators kept running into dead ends and the trail was getting colder.

At first, it looked as if Janet's information would be the big break. Janet had a name.

It turned out to be an alias.

However, an unexpected witness, a bus boy, identified Lenora's boyfriend from police photos. He was a small-time thug, and it was speculated that she never knew this. The witness told the SP that the man fled the area the day after she was found.

A fresh trail led the investigation to New York, but it was too late. He was found murdered, execution-style in an alley two days ago.

The case was offically closed.

Beth came to the viewing, alone. Al, not big on seeing dead bodies, had begged off. He had been reluctant about attending the funeral, but Beth had begged him. She didn't want to attend the funeral alone.

Lenora's casket was open, but Beth had expected it to be closed. Lenora was to be buried in her full dress uniform. Beth was impressed with the morgues capabilities to preserve Lenora's body this long and still make her look almost life like.

Seeing Lenora like that made her think of her mother's funeral

_Clinging to Gran's hand, she watched as the priest performed the rites over first, her grandpa and then her young mother. She looked at the others who had come. Mostly, they were strangers to her, but Gran had assured her that these people were friends. Some had worked with Grandpa and others were friends of her mother's. Without exception, all the strangers snuck looks at her. She knew why, even then: she had no daddy_.

Beth shook herself and turned to leave.

Standing just outside the sanctuary, was Al. She found herself wondering how long he had been standing there and why. As she moved closer, she realized he was holding a bouquet of red roses.

"I was hoping to catch you back at the billets," Al said quietly. "I wanted you to put these on her casket."

Beth studied him. Al was reluctant to enter and Beth could sense it was for a deeper reason than the sight of a dead person. She took the bouquet from him.

"Guilt?" She asked softly.

"Yeah. I was pretty sharp with her on my birthday."

Beth looked at him quizzically. "You're not feeling guilty for giving her the brush-off entirely, are you?"

Al had the decency to look sheepish.

Beth rolled her eyes at him. She left him standing by the door. With great care she laid the bouquet on the closed portion of the casket and left the sanctuary.

As they headed for separate cars, Al asked, "What time do you want me to pick up tomorrow?"

"0915 hrs."

**0930 HRS. SATURDAY, JULY 16, 1960. POST CHAPEL**

The casket was closed and mourners were already filing into the chapel. Beth and Al sat in a middle pew on the far end.

Lenora's father, an Army colonel assigned to Fort Polk, Louisiana, had arrived last night with Lenora's mother, three younger brothers, and most of his extended family. Rumor had it that the colonel was not happy with the way the Navy was handling the investigation. The colonel was talking to the chaplain.

Layton was there also, with a woman Beth supposed was Lenora's mother. The three brothers, all younger, sat as straight as boards, behind their tall, imposing father. 

Kelly came down their row, alone.

"Where's Tom?"

"We had a fight," Kelly replied softly, sitting next to her, "last night."

Al was immediately interested in this news. "What happened?"

"He didn't hurt me physically, Al, so don't get yourself all worked up," she assured him. "It's just that he doesn't seem interested in me anymore." She stopped and shook her head. "No, I know why. He was hoping to get a position in Daddy's company, a high-salary, corner-office job. Daddy offered it to someone with more experience." She sighed. "He hasn't _said_ he doesn't what to see me anymore, yet."

Beth and Al were shocked, speechless.

"Janet told me once, that some guy she was dating in college did the same to her. He was a medical student, hoping to get a residency at the hospital her father is chief of surgeons." Kelly sighed. "I hope something like that never happens to you, Beth."

_Not likely_. "Al's _already_ a Navy pilot, Kelly," Beth said without thinking.

Al looked up sharply. He had been reading the memorial service program.

"Navy blood. Interesting," Kelly was saying.

"I don't know anything more about him. My father, I mean," she said quickly, hoping that Kelly would get the hint.

Kelly took her hand compassionately. "I'm sorry." Apparently, Kelly assumed the man was dead. This was fine with Beth.

"Anyway, Tom is going to move out of the barracks. He's going to rent a friend's house. The guy is a Marine who just go reassigned to Twenty-Nine Palms."

Further discussion was prevented by the entrance of George and Janet. George was escorting the still grief-stricken woman.

The deferential behavior that was bestowed on the man escorting his late daughter's best friend, piqued the colonel's curiosity. He looked inquiringly at Lt. Cdr. Layton.

"Lt. George Whitmore-Jones is a descendant of the Naval hero, John Paul Jones." Layton was speaking in a voice the President of the United States could have heard from the Oval Office.

"She needs her hearing checked," Kelly muttered as George shook hands with the colonel. The colonel looked impressed and Beth was sure it wasn't an easy thing to do.

George was allowed to take his seat, up front of course, without being further embarrassed by Layton. He did, however, offer his condolences to Lenora's mother before returning to Janet's side.

"Appearances. He only escorted her here for appearances' sake," Kelly said, disgusted.

On the other side of Beth, Al stiffened.

Beth put her hand on his and caught his eye. She shook her head, imperceptibly, and he slowly relaxed. She intertwined her fingers with his. It startled him, but it also kept him quiet.

By the time services started, it was unbearably hot. Beth was on the verge of leaving, when the recessional music started. It was still fifteen minutes before Kelly, Al, and Beth were standing on the front lawn, under a tree for shade. Kelly was fanning herself, her face as red as her hair.

Beth's mind drifted back to her mother's funeral and the events that followed. Her grandmother, now widowed, selling the home she had lived in since the day she married and everything else of value (except one or two small family heirlooms). Grace's friends had pleaded with her to stay, but Gran wouldn't hear of it. She had Beth to think about.

"Beth honey?"

Beth blinked. Al and Kelly were looking at her. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking about something."

"Let's not go to the airfield," Al said. "It looks as if you could use a rest." Lenora's body was being flown back to Louisiana, to be buried in her family's plot.

Beth nodded absently, and Kelly took her leave of them.

"Did you and George have breakfast this morning?" Beth asked suddenly. She couldn't imagine why she wanted to know. Of all the things to take her mind off things, George wasn't even in the top one-hundred.

"No. He has to leave for Miramar tonight. He'll be TDY until the 19th of August." Al paused. "I don't know if I mentioned this to you before, but I will be on leave starting the 11th. I should be back by noon on the 19th."

"No. This is the first I've heard of it."

"Sorry. It's been on the books since the day I got back, before I met you."

"Where are you going?"

"Home, to Illinois."

**MONDAY, AUGUST 1, 1960 MCGINTY RESIDENCE, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS**

Maureen McGinty opened the envelope that was postmarked Pensacola, Florida, with anticipation.

  
_Maureen, July 1960   
I should be arriving on the 12th, hopefully by noon.   
As usual, I will go to the cemetery on the 13th. I must   
be back at the air station by noon on the 19th.   
Albert_

"That's it?" Maureen said aloud. She turned the sheet over and looked in the envelope. There were days she wanted to strangle that man.

Maureen, Al's high school sweetheart, hadn't spent a whole day with him since he left for Annapolis. When he came to get his sister and learned that she was dead, his pushy friend dragged him back to Maryland. Then, last summer, he came again without advance warning and she was only able to see him for an hour because of a prior commitment.

Maureen reread the short note. "Well, we didn't exactly part on good terms, did we Al?" she muttered aloud.

She wanted him to stay in Chicago. He wanted to join the Navy and fly. She wanted him and a family. He, or so he thought at the time, wanted her and his career. Maureen knew Al no longer loved her the way she still loved him. Her parents still preferred him to any of her subsequent boyfriends, and their door was always open to him.

But Al had made it clear that it would never be the same between them. Maureen, of course, had plans to change that. "I wonder if he's seeing anyone new?"


	8. The Past

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I thought long and hard about this one.

## **Chapter 7: The Past**

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 1, 1960 OUR LADY OF MERCY CEMETERY**

Al kept his pace deliberately slow, hoping that her plain headstone would miraculously disappear and he would turn around to see her smiling at him. Would she know him? He would know her, he was sure of it.

The memories of her flooded his mind. His imperfect, little sister, Trudy. It was really Gertrude, because Momma had named her while Poppa was out of town. Poppa hated that name, so he called her Trudy. Her devoted brother called her 'Tooty'. Everything had been perfect, except when Poppa would leave for weeks at a time because of work. But the pay was good and Momma always looked forward to his return.

Then Trudy's true mental condition was discovered and everything went downhill. Medical bills put Poppa at work more often than not. Trudy was endlessly teased by neighborhood kids, which got Al into more trouble than anything else. Momma left him and Trudy alone, once, for hours but Poppa found her and brought her back. They had a big fight and threw things. They yelled at each other in Italian, English, and Russian.

Several months later, she disappeared again, but this time, Poppa couldn't find her.

Al stopped short and closed his eyes, squashing the memories. All of them, the good and the bad. He he opened them again and looked around, making sure he hadn't passed it.

He hadn't. He looked down at the little arrangement of forget-me-nots he was holding.

Al remembered trying to teach her the different flowers. She had liked forget-me-nots the most because they were small.

_Stop it!_ he ordered himself.

Finally, he arrived at his destination:

GERTRUDE CALAVICCI

AUGUST 13, 1937 - NOVEMBER 2, 1953

Al gently placed the arrangement in front of the headstone.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart."

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1960. OUR LADY OF MERCY CEMETERY**

Maureen watched Al, unobserved.

She saw him look at Trudy's headstone and tenderly place the flowers on her grave. Maureen saw his lips move, but was too far away to hear, or even guess at, what he said.

Al stood a full five minutes, staring at nothing, before abruptly turning around and hurrying away.

Maureen also saw an older woman watching Al. Instincts told her that this woman was watching him with more than just curiosity.

If anyone had looked at either woman, that person would not have suspected a thing (unless that person had come to visit the graves Maureen and the stranger were posing behind). Maureen sat sedately on a bench, conveniently placed by the deceased's family. The older woman had a floral arrangement and wore black.

_If that's Mariana, I'll just die_, Maureen thought.

The older woman had hurried away before Maureen had the nerve to call out, taking the floral arrangement with her.

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1960. OUR LADY OF MERCY CEMETERY**

She could believe her eyes!

He looked so much like Jack!

She calculated and realized that he was twenty-six years old.

_He must be in the service_, she noted, watching him. _I've seen that hair cut on some soldiers at the bus depot. I wonder if he's an officer._

Mariana longed to speak to him. She knew better than to try. He would be too much like his father, and her for that matter. The look on his face broke her heart. How he loved Trudy!

She found herself wondering if he was married and had a family of his own. As far as she could see, he did not wear a wedding band.

Did he have a girlfriend, at least? _Of course he does_, she thought fondly. _A handsome, young man like him probably has plenty of admiring young ladies to choose from._

The hurt little boy look disappeared and he abruptly turned away.

_Oh, my son_, she thought sadly.

She, too, hurried away.

**1215 HRS. WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 17, 1960. CHICAGO, ILLINOIS**

Maureen gritted her teeth.

He was late.

Al had avoided her all week. He told her he was visiting, declined to stay with her and her parents, and then conveniently forgot to tell them where he was staying. If he didn't want to see her, why had bothered telling her he was coming in the first place?

Last night, she finally heard from him and they made lunch plans for today at one of his favorite restaurants.

The maître'd was leading Al to the table. _Finally!_

Their waiter, magically, appeared. Al rattled off something in Italian, and the waiter disappeared just as quick.

"You're late."

"I know. Sorry."

"Well, what's new? You tell me you're coming and then you avoid me all week."

"Sorry," he said again.

_Now what?_

The silence was awkward. Al's mind seemed to miles away and Maureen was at a loss.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Maureen asked, groping for a topic, _any_ topic, that would start a conversation.

"Yes. I started seeing someone, in June," he said, suddenly animated. Apparently, she found a subject he was happy to talk about. However, the last thing a former lover wanted to hear was anything remotely connected to the current one. Maureen was beginning to wish she had kept her mouth shut.

He was still talking about her. "She's a nurse and her name's Beth. I plan to bring her here for Thanksgiving."

Maureen had forgotten her parents' open invitation to spend any holiday or shore leave with them. They probably wouldn't mind the fact that he would be bringing a woman with him. Her parents liked him _a lot_. Maureen, on the other hand, was not thrilled with his plans to bring this Beth person.

"I think she might be the one, Maureen."

Maureen stared at him, her mind and body numb. The expression on face and the look in his eyes told her he was serious.

Al finally noticed her expression because he was suddenly angry. "It's over between us, Maureen, so don't get any funny ideas," he told her in a low tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped back, in the same tone.

"Jealousy is written all over your face."

Now she was angry. "I'm leaving. I didn't come here to listen to such nonsense!"

Al shrugged. "Fine. See you in November."

She marched off fuming, at herself. She should have been more careful. Al was no dummy. They knew each other too well.

She saw his love for that nurse in his eyes. There was no 'might' involved. This Beth person owned his heart.


	9. Confessions

Author's Note: I know the chapter # in the body is different than the ff.n's listing. Oh well.

## **Chapter 8: Confessions**

**1815 HRS. FRIDAY, AUGUST 19, 1960. PENSACOLA NAVAL AIR STATION**

Beth moved briskly to her car.

Al had called around 1300 to tell her he was back. He had sounded tired and a bit gloomy. Beth found this odd. The overall spirits of Lenora's friends had lifted considerably over the last few weeks and even Janet was better. But Al still sounded out of sorts.

Beth never asked him why he went to Chicago. He seemed relieved that she hadn't.

Neither was willing to talk about personal things so the relationship was crawling. Beth could tell anyone who asked what Al's feelings about civil rights were, but if one asked her about what his father did for a living, she couldn't answer. The same applied to her. Except that she let slip that her father had been a naval aviator.

Tonight, she would treat him to dinner and hopefully lift his spirits. Maybe they would see a movie this weekend or picnic on the beach.

Chip led her to Al's room and knocked on the door. While waiting for an answer, Chip asked, "Big plans for this evening?"

She rolled her eyes at him.

The door opened and Beth knew something was wrong the moment she saw him. He looked. . . .drunk?

"Beth!" Al was surprised to see her.

Chip, giving up, left them standing in the doorway of Al's room.

"I thought I'd treat you to dinner tonight," Beth said. "You sounded a little down on the phone and I thought I could cheer you up."

"OK, sounds good to me." To Beth's ears, it sounded like false cheer. But it least he hadn't turned her down, meaning he still wanted to see her. "You drive."

"Hey, Bingo," Chip called out as they crossed through the day room, "the tower called and said George would be landing ahead of schedule. Do you want me to pick him up?"

Al nodded and threw Chip his spare car keys. "Thanks, Chip."

"I forgot George was returning tonight," Beth commented as she backed out of the parking lot.

"Hmm."

She headed for Gino's Pizzeria. She glanced at Al and he looked to be a million miles away. "Al, what's wrong?"

He sighed. "Nothing. Lot on my mind, that's all."

"The new pilots?"

"Hmm."

Beth wasn't buying it. She'd just have to wait him out.

Gino served more than just pizza. He served traditional Italian meals and Al had found no complaints with any of them in the past, so Beth called Gino to let him know that she was coming with Al. Gino only required advanced warning and he could have the meal ready when they arrived.

Gino showed them to a quiet, out of the way, booth and their dinner was brought out before Al could even finish his beer.

He ordered another.

"So, what did you do in Chicago?" Beth asked him after several minutes of silence.

Al avoided her eyes and shrugged. "Not much," he replied, playing with his food.

Beth blinked, stunned. She tried again. "Did you visit family?"

"Yes." Al's tone was sharp and final, conveying that he wanted the subject dropped.

She was hurt and confused by his actions and tone. "I don't want you to think I'm prying into your personal--" she started, anger rising.

"Gino, another beer."

Beth sat motionlessly, as Gino brought Al another beer. In the two months they had been together, Al had kept his drinking under moderation, even on Independence day. He never ignored her either. 

As she stared at him, unnoticed, hurt and angry, tears began to well up. She fought back the urge: he would _not_ make her cry.

Beth was determined never to see him again. Not ever. She would give him one more chance tonight, but not here.

"Gino, I would like the bill please. And put that," she said, indicating the row of empty beer bottles, "on his bar tab. He'll settle it later."

Gino was understanding. He, too, had noticed.

_Why?_ she thought, somewhere between anger and despair, as she rummaged through her purse for her car keys. _Why did you have to do this, Al? Why can't you talk to me?_

Beth knew of a relatively safe and secluded spot. It was still light out so wasn't apprehensive about driving there. At their destination, a spot that overlooked the beach, Beth got out of her car and slammed the door shut. She stood waiting for him by the hood.

It took him a minute or two to realize what she wanted him to do.

He didn't stagger, but he walked close to the car and sat on the hood, looking at the water.

"What the hell is wrong?" she snapped. He looked at her almost immediately, blinking.

"You've been depressed for weeks. I thought it was because of Lenora. Then you go home for a week and I hoped that the trip would have cheered you up, but you came back twice as depressed. I swear to God, Al, if you don't tell me what is wrong, I'm not going to see you again. I promise you that." Her anger and hurt had built up to such a point that her last words had the same effect as a slap across the face.

Al had heard and understood every word she said, that was obvious by the look on his face. "I went to visit my sister's grave," he said finally, miserable.

The bottom fell out of her anger and she felt herself go numb.

"She would have been twenty-three on the 13th," Al continued, "but she will always be sixteen."

Beth remembered being sixteen and a lump formed in her throat.

"Trudy was born. . . . retarded. I did everything I could to protect her." He swallowed. "Our father had to work overtime for her medical bills, so he was hardly around." Seemingly unnoticed, tears began to roll down his checks. He didn't move to wipe them away or hide them.

"My mother couldn't handle both of us anymore. I was constantly in trouble and Trudy had to be watched every minute. She finally up and left us." With those words, Beth finally understood nearly everything about him. Al became suddenly blurry and she realized that she was crying too.

"Our father tried to keep us, but a good paying job was offered in Saudi Arabia. He put both of us in the orphanage, but they wouldn't keep her. He came back, but was diagnosed with cancer and died in '44." Al voice was beginning to crack. Beth knew it wouldn't hold out much longer.

"The last time I saw my sister, I promised her that I would come back for her someday. After Annapolis, I wanted to save up some money before I went back for her, and in the summer of '58, George and I went to Illinois." He shook his head. "I was too late, Beth. If I had enlisted instead of accepting an appointment to Annapolis, she might not have died of pneumonia in that metal institution. I broke my promise to my sister."

The last restraint on Al's grief finally broke and Beth pulled him into her arm. He wept like a brokenhearted little boy, one who never had the chance to grieve properly for his sister. Beth had seen many grown men cry; but these were the tears of a devoted brother who believed he had failed his sister.

As she held him, her love for him became overwhelming. She stroked his head and let her own tears fall. Everything made sense: he was afraid to get too close to anyone. She was the same way, but a different reason. Both lost people very dear to them. Somewhere out there, was Beth's father (if he survived WWII) and Al's mother; two people who had hurt their children by never being part of their lives.

When the sobbing subsided and Beth could find her voice again, she said gently, "I don't believe you let her down, Al. You did what was important: think about how to support her. I believe she never gave up believing that you would one day come for her.." She sighed. "And you did go back, Al, and you keep her memory alive by visiting her grave. Don't blame yourself. Trudy doesn't."

Beth gave him some space, to regroup. While Al was wiping his face with his handkerchief, Beth made a decision. She had to tell him about her own past, before she lost the nerve.

"Since we're confessing family secrets, I'd better let you in on mine. I think you've sensed it, because you've been treating me like fine crystal."

Al focused his attention on her. He still looked like hell, but neither was expected back, and Beth was willing to drive for hours if needed. But right now, she had to get this out of the way.

"When I alluded to Kelly that my father was a dead naval aviator, I was purposely misleading. My mother, at sixteen, had a brief affair with one who was passing through. I have her diary and for the sake of time, I will tell you that it wasn't a planned affair and she never saw him again after that night. She never mentions his name or whether she even knew it. He could have died in WWII or he could be commanding a carrier as we speak."

Beth paused to gauge his reaction to this. Al seemed to mull over the fact that her father could easily be someone he knew.

"My grandparents were upset. Being Catholics, they didn't believe in abortion, and they would never turn my mother out. She was their only child and to lose her, they would lose everything they treasured. According to my grandmother, the moment my grandfather first set eyes on me, all thought of orphanages and adoption agencies went out the window. I was named after my mother and called Beth to distinguish me from her."

Beth turned to look out over the water. "As you know, I was born in Maryland and every summer, we would go to the Jersey shore. My grandfather, who I loved dearly, taught me to swim and sail. You remind me of him, in some ways. He felt so alive and full of energy, just like you." She turned back to Al. "The summer of '46, we went as usual. My mother went out for a swim. She was an excellent swimmer, but the undertow was too strong. Grandfather went to help her but --" Beth couldn't finish. She didn't need to. The look on his face told her he knew they had drowned.

"My grandmother sold everything she could and we moved to Georgia, to live with her widowed, older sister. My Great-Aunt Milly's late husband was from Georgia and she was the last, close family Gran had. I didn't escape the stigma of illegitimacy there. Everyone knew. Milly made sure of it. I was miserable. Milly died a few years ago and she left everything to Gran. Gran's all alone up there, but I write and call all the time. I send her money and care packages. I wanted her to come to Florida with me, but he didn't want me to waste the rest of my life looking after her." Beth looked Al squarely in the eyes and said, "When she's gone, I'll be all alone, too."

Al stood up and drew her into his arms. He held her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Beth didn't feel like crying; she had done enough of it earlier. After a few minutes had passed, Al held her way from him, slightly, and looked into her eyes. She saw his pain and understanding, but she also saw something that turned her legs into rubber. Without a word, he tilted her chin and kissed her.

He tasted like beer, but she had eaten garlic bread. There would be no escaping any recriminations later. But this kiss was warm and tender. Beth moved one hand to the back of his head, preventing him from ending the kiss sooner than she wanted. In response, Al held her tighter.

Beth's legs threatened to give out. All sorts of warning bells went off as she clung to him for support. She ignored them. Beth was certain if Al made the decision to go further, she would not stop him.

Apparently, Al heard the warning bells and he wasn't prepared to go any further. As gently as he could, he disengaged his lips from hers. For an irrational moment, Beth hated him.

"I think we should go back," Al said.

**2115 HRS. FRIDAY, AUGUST 19, 1960. BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

George fretted.

George did everything, _except_ call his father, to get back to Pensacola as soon as possible. Al was George's only true friend and he was worried about this trip to Chicago.

As soon as Chip picked him up in Al's car, George played dumb. "Did Al just get back? I see you have his car. Has he turned in already?"

"Oh, no. Beth's taken him to dinner."

Now he sat on the steps outside the BOQ, 'admiring the sky', as he told Chip who couldn't understand why he hadn't gone in to change out of his flight suit He continued to worry about his best friend.

Al and George hadn't always been best friends.

In the fall of 1952, George was a stuck-up rich kid that everyone either avoided or fawned over, and Al was, well, a nobody who made friends with just about everybody. They tolerated each other until that fateful day George said something he really shouldn't have and Al found out. Al, knowing he could be thrown out of the Academy, slugged George.

He had deserved that punch, of course, but he wouldn't have admitted it then. Al had already started packing when the superintendent called them before him. Of course, George had called his father. Adam was with the superintendent and he was furious with Al (without even knowing Al's side of the story). Adam wanted him out. Fortunately for all parties, the superintendent had learned that Al was making arrangement to leave and this, coupled with Al's academic standing so far, impressed him. The superintendent was unimpressed, to say the least, with the Whitmore-Joneses and made George confess to making a remark that was unbecoming an officer and a gentleman. Al was never asked why he found the remark offensive (George found out later that the superintendent had already known Al's sister was retarded).

As punishment, George and Al were forced to become room mates.

At first, it was hell. But by spring, George discovered Al's desire to fly. From there, a friendship began. Al told George about Trudy and George apologized.

Al had opened more doors for George. Al had taken him to _real_ parties, not stuffy affairs with politicians and socialites. George even went on a _real_ first date. Before he met Al, George socialized with the daughters of politicians and other prominent families: Now George did more than just socialize with women from different backgrounds. George's attitudes and perceptions changed, too, and not all for the better. George began to hate his parents and he never again went running to his father.

Al never asked for any big favors of George (like money, for instance). Al never wanted George or his father to use their influence in his behalf. George didn't mind the little favors that Al asked (there weren't many). After all, George owed him. Going to Illinois with Al had a dramatic effect on him. Al seemed so happy-go-lucky and carefree. No one would have guessed his history. To see Al so devastated, it shocked and scared George. This wasn't the Al he knew, the one, George had predicted to his father that would one day wear stars. This Al had his heart literally ripped out.

_And that could happen again tonight_, George thought to himself, frustrated. _It's going to be a disaster. He's going to put his foot in it and she's going to dump him._

Al was in love. So much in love in fact, that Al was acting out of character. George could normally set his watch by Al's routine, but not this time. From the first, George suspected; then he saw with his own eyes the way they danced that night in June. He kept an eye on them, from a distance and saw that he had been right about her feelings, too. George began composing his Best Man toast by Independence Day.

George had seen Al through two Augusts and could guess what Al would be doing and how he was acting. Beth would be bewildered. She would want to know what was troubling him and want to comfort him. She was a nurse and in love with him. It had been hard to get Al to talk about his family before he learned of Trudy's death; now he would shut Beth out completely

So much for the Best Man toast.

_I should have called her and told her what to expect_, George berated himself. He never wanted to see Al that devastated again.

Beth's car pulled up and it took all of George's will power to saunter, nonchalantly, over. The fact that both were in her car gave George hope. After all, she could have left him at the restaurant.

Neither looked angry. Beth looked tired and thoughtful; Al looked hung over and drained.

George floundered for an opening. He wasn't prepared for this. They walked over to where he was standing.

His concern and confusion must have been obvious. "I've told her about Trudy, George," Al said tiredly, to his friend.

Relief washed over him and he sighed. "You two look like hell."

"Well, neither of us are up to long conversations either. I'm heading in." Al turned to Beth and kissed her good night.

George's jaw dropped and he snapped it shut before they parted.

"Let's skip breakfast tomorrow, George. And could you get my keys from Chip?"

George nodded, understanding. Al turned away from them both and started up the steps. Beth still stood by George, watching Al. Al did not look back.

"I need to talk to you, Beth, " George said once Al was out of earshot.

"I'm too tired right now," she started.

"I know," he interrupted gently. "Look, I know you don't think highly of me, but I'm the only one here who really knows Al. If I'm not being too forward, I would like to take you to breakfast tomorrow. I'll tell Al what I'm doing."

Beth considered the idea.

"You could wait forever for him to about himself again, Beth," he told her. "I can at least try to answer your questions. I should have warned you about this."

"We talked a long time, George and he told me a lot of things."

"If I know Al, he didn't tell you everything. Please allow me to take you to breakfast."

Beth nodded. "If you think it's necessary."

George sighed. "For both your sakes, it is."

**0830 HRS. SATURDAY, AUGUST 20, 1960. BOB'S DINER, PENSACOLA, FL**

Margie looked curiously at George's breakfast companion.

"This is Al's girlfriend, Beth."

"He's letting you take her to breakfast? Why isn't she back there with him?"

Beth blushed.

"He's under the weather, Marge."

Margie shook her head and left to place the order.

"The first thing I should mention, and I hope I'm not putting my foot in it, is Maureen McGinty."

"Who?" Her brown eyes became suspicious.

"Al's high school sweetheart. They had a big argument over him accepting an Appointment. She wanted him to stay in Chicago. Al wanted, and needed, out."

Beth nodded, understanding.

"Her parents all but adopted him. He still cares about her, but not enough to marry her."

"And she?"

"Well, when we were there in '58, we were supposed to visit the McGinty's. When he found out about Trudy . . . I'll never forget the look on his face. 'Devastated' doesn't really cover it." Both sat in silence, lost in thought. George broke the silence by resuming his narrative. "Since he didn't seem to care what was happening, I made the decision to end the trip and take him with me to Evermore. I called Maureen and told her want was happening. I left Al is his room and a short time later, there this little redhead banging on my door, demanding to see Al. She's concerned about him, like a good friend would be, but there's something in her eyes that I don't trust. She wants him back and in the state of mind he was in then, she could have gotten what she wanted."

George paused to take a sip of his coffee. "Anyway, Al refused to answer the door or the phone so she came to me for help. Naturally, I behave like the jerk I can be and this infuriates her. After about five minutes, she gives up and leaves in a huff. Since he gave her no warning last year, they only saw each other for a few hours, I think. I hope this year he didn't see her."

"I don't know. He hasn't said anything to me about her." Beth stirred her coffee and asked curiously, "How did you two become friends?"

George smiled ruefully. "The spoiled, rich kid said something about retarded people, and this wiry, little nothing, who knows exactly who the rich kid is, slugs him like a Golden Gloves champ." George shook his head. "I deserved that punch and Al knew it could cost him his Appointment. He did it anyway and started packing. He was already impressing the Sup, who wasn't exactly fond of my father or me. The Sup made us roommates. We didn't get along, not at first, but our common love for the Navy and the desire to fly became a foundation for a friendship"

Beth was thoughtful again. George struggled a moment or two with how to ask her about the night before. "Forgive me, but what happened last night?"

She shrugged. "Not much. He told me his past, I told him mine." Tilting her head to one side, she said. "In the two months we've known each other, we've never talked bout personal things of that nature or that painful. We _had_ to have that conversation, George. Our friendship, our _relationship_, is dead in the water, if we don't know where we came from."

_I wonder what happened in her past?_ The full force of the Calavicci charm would have scarred her off, that much was obvious to George from the beginning. George considered what he knew about Al and his dealings with women, and knew enough about his friend to know he was going slow for fear of losing her.

"He cares about you deeply, Beth. He must, because he never would have revealed so much, especially now that he knows about Trudy."

"I love him, George."

George was startled. It was the last thing he expected to hear. He knew it already, but for her to say so (to him, no less), was something different. "Have you told him?"

She shook her head. "Do you think it's premature?"

"It depends. Let me talk to him first and see what happened in Chicago."

**0945 HRS. SATURDAY, AUGUST 20, 1960. BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

"What's with Bingo lately?" Chip asked George as George entered the day room. "I saw him come in last night. I guess he's finally gotten tired of playing hard-to-get with Lt. Townsend. Man, how long has it been since he scored? New Year's Day, I think. Nearly nine months! So, did he break up with her?"

George stared at him. Chip was truly amazing sometimes. Was it only obvious to George that Al was in love?

Chip continued. "All they do is walk, and talk, and go to the movies or to the beach, and have dinner. They get back at a decent hour and when they don't see each other, he stays here. It must be driving him crazy."

"Chip," George said, finally grasping the fact that Chip was blind, "they're still an item, as far as I know."

"You're kidding, right?"

George gave him the haughtiest, iciest, glare he could manage before ten o'clock in the morning on a Saturday. It must have been impressive, because Chip backed away a few steps.

"What Lt. Townsend and Lt. Calavicci do, or not do, is none of your concern, Lt. Fergueson. Is that clear?" George said coldly.

Chip stared back, but said nothing. George looked at him a moment longer and than coldly turned away. He slowly headed for Al' room, recomposing himself. He knocked as politely as he could.

There was a muffled response. It could have been a request to be left alone, but George didn't really care. George was surprised when he open the door.

Al was still in bed, as expected. However, he had gotten up earlier, showered and shaved, changed clothes, made the bed, and crawled back into it. There was a towel draped over the back of the chair and the smell of soap and shaving cream still hung in the air. Al had made an attempt to get back to normal earlier than usual.

He was sprawled out on his stomach, face toward the wall.

"We're back," he informed Al, closing the door and crossing to Al's desk. He sat on it and pick up the baseball still in Al's glove. He tossed it into the air a few times, waiting for Al to respond.

Al's eyes were still closed. "Hmm."

"I told her how we met. I think she was impressed. With what you did, that is." George kept one eye on the ball, the other on his friend.

"Hmm."

He stopped tossing the ball and turned his complete attention to the man on the bed. "I told her about Maureen."

As soon as the words registered, Al's eyes flew open. He raised his head slightly to get a better look at George.

"What did you tell her?" Al croaked suspiciously.

George repeated what he said, almost word for word, then added, "Beth handled the news rather well." He couldn't tell what Al was thinking. "Did you see Miss McGinty this time?"

Al nodded slowly, closed his eyes, and lowered his head back down on the pillow. "I only saw her for a few minutes. I was late getting to the restaurant for our lunch date and she asked me if I was seeing someone new." Al stopped and sat up slowly. He carefully stood and walked past George, grabbing the towel on his way to the head.

George listened for the sounds of vomiting, but all Al was doing was splashing cold water on his face. 

Al reemerged and sat Indian-style, on the foot of his bed. "I told her a little about Beth," he continued, looking George squarely in the eyes. "I told her that Beth might be the one and that made her jealous. I told her so and she left in a huff. Oh, and I told her I was bringing Beth for Thanksgiving."

George was still reeling, mentally, from Al's previous statement about Beth 'being the one'. He hadn't expected Al to confess so quickly. The word 'might' still bother George, though. It wasn't a true confession until Al spoke emphatically.

"Maureen didn't handle the news well at all," Al finished.

Still, there was a glimmer of hope. George still could be called upon to perform the duty of Best Man. He cleared his throat. "Al, you can run me off, but I want to know how you honestly feel about Beth."

Al was quiet a moment, and he expected to be thrown out at any moment. "I love her, George. I love her more than I've loved any other woman," he said quietly, staring blankly at the wall.

Emphatic. Today was full of surprises and it wasn't even noon. George was going to let the lovebirds confess their true feelings to each other. His curiosity was satisfied. If Al's attention was completely on Beth, he wouldn't get on his case when he dumped Janet. "It's your call, Al, but I think you should tell her how you feel."

He stood up and headed for the door. "I let you get some more rest. Beth's doing the same, I guess."

"Thanks, George."

"Just don't mess this up, Al. You could end up regretting it for the rest of your life."


	10. Unexpected Developments

## **Chapter 9: Unexpected Developments**

**NOON. SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1960. BX SNACK BAR, PENSACOLA NAS**

"Al, look at this!"

Beth looked up sharply, surprised at the anger in George's tone as he approached their table.

What's wrong?" Al asked when George reached their table.

George handed Al a white envelope, the type used for official invitations.

Al opened it with a small frown. His eyes grew wide as he read the enclosure. He gave a low whistle and handed the envelope and contents to Beth, who had watched Al with curiosity.

It _was_ an invitation and Beth read it aloud in disbelief. "You are cordially invited to the Birthday Gala given in honor of Admiral (Retired) John Patrick Jones, USN. Date, September 10, 1960. Place, Pensacola Country Club?" She looked up at George. "They're coming here?"

"Yeah," he replied, fuming. "It's been in the works since January. Grandfather wanted to surprise me."

"Isn't his health failing?" Al asked, taking the invitation back from Beth.

Anger dissolving, George sighed and pulled up a chair. "He's got his mind set on coming and no one can change it. I called as soon as I received this. Grandfather plans to stay through September and October. He wants me to take leave, so we can spend some time together." The bond between grandfather and grandson was strong. George would do anything he asked. The fact that his grandfather was coming here told George that he didn't expect to live until Christmas.

"Who else is coming?" Al asked.

"My parents," George replied sourly.

Al frowned but kept silent. George continued. "My cousin Eddie and his girlfriend, Daphne."

"You have a cousin named Eddie?" Beth asked, curious.

"Second cousin. Edward St. John V. He's in the Royal Navy."

The conversation died. George's mind was still on his grandfather. It took several minutes of awkward silence for George to realize that Al and Beth were waiting for George to leave. He mumbled an apology and left them.

He was almost to his car when he realized that he left the invitation with Al. Reminded of the document, George instantly became angry at his father again. George loved his grandfather very much, but in recent years, he couldn't stand being in the same house with his parents more than a few days. George's visits to Evermore were few and far between.

By supporting Grandfather's request to come to Florida regardless of what the doctors may have said, it gave his father an excuse to come and stay a few weeks. The only other bright spot, as far as George could see, was that his mother would not stay long at all. He was certain of that.

George glanced at his watch, waiting for the light to turn green. He was late. He should have been in Alabama by now. George even skipped breakfast with Al so he could leave first thing, but thanks to this new irritation, he had wasted hours.

Not that Dixie was expecting him this early. Depending on her girls' clientele the night before, Dixie usually got out of bed at noon. He hated the fact he had to go to Alabama, but the local girls knew who he was and George wanted things to be discreet. He was willing to bet that even _Al_ didn't know he had taken a 'mistress' again. Janet, if she suspected, made no protest.

_Janet._

Janet was less demanding and more pleasant to be with since the death of Lenora, but George was still planning to break up with her. The reason he hadn't ended things yet, was that he still needed a convenient and proper girlfriend for social engagements. It surprised him the relationship had lasted as long as it had and George had to admit, grudgingly, that Al was right and the mind was just as important as the body. Janet could hold her own in conversations that his previous girlfriends would have just giggled or shown how ignorant they really were. Janet was following Kennedy's presidential campaign closely and could get into heated debates very quickly with Nixon supporters.

Regardless of how he felt about her, his mother would never approve. Her father may be a highly respected surgeon in a good hospital, but Victoria Hamilton Whitmore-Jones would always look down at her. His mother was an American, but he felt she behaved more like British nobility of a bygone era. Not even her mother-in-law, Lady Catherine Whitmore, had behaved in that manner when she was alive.

Not that he cared what his mother thought. If George was in the least bit serious about Janet, he would marry her, with or without parental blessing. The worst they could do was cut him off and refuse to see him again. That was a mixed blessing: his grandfather would support his decision and see that George got something. As for not seeing his parents again, George couldn't be happier.

Al didn't realize how lucky he had it. He had the love of a lovely young woman and there was no one to pass judgement on his choice. As for _their_ relationship, George did not know, nor did he want to know, how much further they had gone. He was getting a little irritated, though, with all their long looks into each other's eyes and spontaneous hand-holding. They still gave him the impression that neither had expressed their true feelings.

George's mood improved considerably when he saw the first road sign advising him of the distance to the state line. By the time he reached it, he had forgotten about Al, Beth, Janet, his family, and the invitation.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Once George had walked away, Beth turned her attention back to Al. Contrary to George's prediction, they had taken turns talking about their pasts. She was sure Al spoke more on his family during in the last few days than in his entire life. Beth knew she had. It had been painful, but each took comfort from the other.

"Where were we?" Al asked.

"You were about to tell me about Maureen," she prompted.

Al nodded and stared off into the distance for a moment. "My sophomore year, I went to the regular Catholic school because the orphanage had taught me all they could in the math department." Beth knew this already; it was the same reason the Academy sent him to MIT. She didn't know what it had to do with Maureen. She was about to ask him when he continued.

"I first met Maureen that year. She needed a math tutor and I volunteered. You can guess where things went from there." He looked at her when he said this. She nodded, and he continued. "Her parents are good, decent, people who more or less took me in. They really like me and I'm still fond of them." Al paused, taking a sip of water.

He continued. "Mr. McGinty helped me with my application for an appointment. The day I received the acceptance, I thought him and his wife would burst with pride. But not Maureen." He paused again and looked away. "Up until that day, all four of us believed that I would one day marry her. Her reaction to the news changed everything. Maureen wanted me to stay in Chicago and work for her father, and the two of us would settle down near them. She didn't understand that I couldn't spend the rest of my life in Illinois. Her parents did and her mother even tried to make her see my side."

"Did you love her?" Beth asked softly.

He was still looking away. "I thought so, at the time." He looked at her. "I mentioned to her that I was bringing you for Thanksgiving. She's jealous."

Beth never had anyone jealous of her before. "She sounds self-centered," she observed.

"Spoiled, actually. She is an only child."

"I'm an only child."

Al didn't reply to this. The conversation had died, and Beth knew from experience, this meant he did not want to discuss anything more. She watched him play with the envelope flap and knew where his thoughts had turned.

"He's so unhappy," she said aloud.

Al nodded, still fiddling with the envelope.

"He has everything and he's still unhappy," Beth continued. "I think we're the lucky ones."

"Well, they say money can't buy happiness. I guess that really is true," Al said, lost in thought.

"I rather be happy than wealthy."

"He once told me he envied me."

Beth looked at Al. "Do you know why he hates his parents?"

"Adam and Victoria never really loved each other, I think. It was more of a merger than a marriage." Al grimaced. "I think it's my fault though, that he hates his parents. I mean, I did open his eyes to reality, our plebe year."

"George is more alone than either of us." Beth said, looking into Al's eyes. "At least we had family that cared about us, loved us, and showed us that we were loved." Beth shook her head. "This is something out of a bad Gothic novel. Only thing missing is the love child and a forbidden love between a member of the family and a member of the staff."

"Don't be too surprised if the forbidden love isn't missing from the picture," Al commented.

"Do you mean the admiral is cheating on his wife?"

"Who said anything about the admiral?"

"Mrs. Whitmore?"

Al shrugged. "Rumors, but yes."

Beth tried to imagine living under the same roof with the Whitmore-Joneses. She just couldn't. Beth pitied them, and sincerely hoped that Janet would come to her senses and seriously reconsider her pursuit of George.

"And what about his grandfather?" Beth asked.

Al immediately brightened. "JP? He's great! Real down to earth. You'd never know he spent his time in exclusive schools, and from the stories his tells, you'd wondered why he wasn't expelled from them."

Beth smiled at Al's sudden lift in spirits. "I can't wait to meet him."

"Oh, you'll love him. He has so many stories about the places he's been and the people he's met." Al shook his head, fondly. "I could listen to him for days."

"George's very close to his grandfather," Beth observed, quietly. She thoughts drifted to her own. 

Henry Townsend was a decent, hardworking man. Gran had told her many times that Betty's disgrace had affected him deeply. He felt he had failed her as a father, and that she betrayed him. Even so, he never compounded the situation by turning his back on his own child. Then Beth came into their lives. Her grandfather had learned to ignore the looks and whispers. He also learned to forgive his daughter.

"Beth?"

Beth looked up at Al, still sitting across from her. "I'm sorry. My mind wandered."

"Thinking about your grandfather?"

She looked at him, quizzically. "How did you know?"

"Logical assumption."

Beth nodded. "He never put my mother down, never demanded to know the identity of my father." She sighed. "I never could understand why she kept silent."

"Maybe he was married." Al supplied.

Beth nodded. "Her diary never said as much, but studying it has led me to believe he was. But that doesn't explain her silence. I mean, if he was married, that's all she would have needed to say to my grandfather. She did tell them that he was not from around Greenbelt."

"No other theories, then?"

"Well, she did mention a Navy pilot in her diary, but Gran found that out after her death. Grandfather always believed it was a midshipman. They were always passing through, to and from the Academy."

"Maybe he was, and he lied to your mother to impress her," Al replied in a gentle tone. "It sounds like something I would do."

Beth had thought about that over the years. She didn't want to think her mother could easily be duped. But the possibility was real. "I guess you could be right. About him lying, I mean."

Al chuckled gently. "I knew what you meant."

Beth gave him a gentle small. "You're not lying to me, are you?"

"Honey, you need to drop by the airfield once and awhile."

"I have a day off next week," she said tentatively.

"I think I can arrange a little tour," Al told her. "And you can watch me fly circles around George and Chip."

"I would like that."

**SATURDAY, AUGUST 27, 1960. NURSES' BOQ, PENSACOLA NAS**

Later that afternoon, Al dropped her off in front of the BOQ. She watched him drive off. Lost in thought, Beth headed in

She passed Kelly, sitting quietly by herself, in the day room. The redhead said nothing as Beth passed through. Beth, mind on Al, kept walking.

Half way down the hall, Beth stopped, turned around and headed back into the day room. Kelly's expression was pensive. Beth sat across from her.

"What's wrong?" Beth asked quietly.

Kelly remained silent.

"Tom?"

Kelly nodded.

Beth studied her, noting that there were no noticeable signs of physical violence on Kelly's face and arms. Beth worried that there were bruises concealed by Kelly's clothing. Before Beth could voice her concern, Kelly spoke.

"I . . . I broke up with Tom today."

"Oh, Kelly."

Kelly gave her a wane smile. "Don't feel sorry, Beth." The smile faded. "He's changed so much since he's been back. He's become so . . . secretive lately. I don't even recognize him sometimes."

"Do you think it's another woman?" Beth asked her gently.

Kelly shrugged. "I don't know, Beth. I. . . . I just don't know."

"Beth! Have you heard the news?!" Janet called excitedly as she came through the front door. "We're invited to Admiral Jones' birthday gala! We need to shop for. . . . What's wrong with Kelly?"

Beth filled her in as Janet sat next to Kelly. "I never could see what you saw in him," Janet said, patting Kelly's hand.

"Janet!!" Beth said, horrified.

"Well, I just don't. Listen, Kelly, I didn't want to say this before because I didn't know how to say it without hurting your feelings, but I always thought that Tom was a real . . . a real. . . ." Janet floundered for a suitable word.

Beth and Kelly looked at each another. A genuine smile spread across Kelly's lips. It was obvious that the same thought occurred to both women. "Nozzle," they said in unison.

"Yes! Thank you, Al," Janet replied, also smiling. "Now, tell me truthfully, how upset are you over this?"

Kelly's smile wavered slightly, but it did not fade this time. "I'll get over it. I saw it coming weeks ago. At least I did the walking out." She seemed to brighten up with that observation. She turned to Janet. "What were you saying about a gala?"

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 28, 1960. EVERMORE CASTLE, ELKRIDGE, MARYLAND**

"Victoria, you can do whatever you want, but only _after_ the birthday gala," Rear Admiral Adam Whitmore-Jones informed his wife.

The tall blonde woman stood in front of his desk with her arms folded across her breast. She was angry. Angry, because he was making her accompany him to Pensacola, and because their only child would not do what she wanted. Victoria's great ambition in life was to see both her husband and her son in the White House.

"I cannot believe that you actually supported your father's decision, Adam. We need to stay here, in Maryland, during the remainder of this election campaign."

Adam had lost count of the times they had this conversation since January. "I'm well enough known and well enough connected, to be able to leave the area for a few weeks."

"It could still hurt your chances--"

"Hurt my chances?" Adam interrupted his wife. "Victoria, I'm not running for public office _next_ year. At best, I'm looking for an appointment as Secretary of Defense or Secretary of the Navy in the new Administration. And you can forget about being First Lady for a least another ten years."

"You're not ambitious enough, Adam. You could have put a bid in for the Presidency in this election, if you had listened to my advice two years ago."

"The Democrats wouldn't have chosen me over Kennedy, and the Republicans wouldn't have chosen me over the Vice President. Besides, we've been through this before, Victoria. The Navy comes first. The fact that I'm _willingly_ submitting my retirement still fails to please you. Now if you don't stop being unrealistic, I will change my mind and stay on Active Duty."

The threat hit home. She dropped her offensive stance and stood quietly, keeping a check on her anger.

"Now, I'm still looking forward to this career change, but I will go through with my threat if you so much as mention a presidential bid again." Adam was well aware that she would start harassing him again, once he retired. That was fine with Adam. He was well aware that his chances for a presidential nomination were slim.

"I still plan to fly down to Miami," she said, as if she hadn't heard a word he said.

"Starting on the 11th," Adam reminded her.

Victoria nodded, once again the ice queen. She turned and left his office.

Left alone in silence, Adam looked around his spacious and elegant office. There had been no need for the last three generations of Joneses to work for a living. All three had considered _not_ joining the service, but all three had heard the call of duty, and the sea, and responded without hesitation.

Adam thought back to when he and Victoria were first married. He had intended from the beginning that he would one day enter politics. Victoria's family was politically prominent and Adam thought it was high time that the Joneses enter that arena. America preferred her leaders to have military experience, and Adam had plenty of that. For years now, she had been pushing for his retirement, but as he reminded her again and again, the Navy would always come first. Always.

Victoria was pushing George, now that his initial active duty obligation was completed. She was also looking for a suitable daughter-in-law. His own father had reminded her on several occasions, that this wasn't 17th Century Europe and George wasn't the Prince of Wales. As always, Victoria ignored her father-in-law.

Adam sighed. There was much still to do before they departed for Florida. Adam wondered if he could work in a round of golf, weather permitting, with the President before then.


	11. Mrs. Johnson's Guests

## **Chapter 10: Mrs. Johnson's Guests**

**FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1960, REAR ADMIRAL JOHNSON'S QUARTERS, PENSACOLA**

Standing on the front porch of the large house, Beth straightened her dress and smoothed down her hair. She was nervous about meeting George's family alone. Janet was called off leave, first thing this morning, but Beth had the sneaking suspicion that Janet had chickened out and volunteered to fill the shortage. The men couldn't take leave: Rear Admiral Whitmore-Jones was 'reviewing of the troops', so to speak. 

Beth knocked on the front door and Admiral Johnson's maid answered. "Lt. Townsend to see Mrs. Whitmore-Jones." 

"Please follow me, lieutenant." 

The maid led Beth into a tastefully decorated sitting room where Mrs. Johnson was entertaining her guests. It was obvious that the two wives did _not_ get along. Beth's heart sank. It was going to be a long afternoon. 

Mrs. Johnson was a sensible person and she would never put on any airs and she greeted Beth warmly. Mrs. Whitmore-Jones was a different matter. George favored her in appearance: icy, blue eyes and blonde hair. She sat in regal silence. She gave Beth the briefest nod and a cool "Good day." 

Fortunately, Beth was forewarned by Al, and was prepared for this. She retained her good manners and gave Victoria Whitmore-Jones the warmest greeting possible without overdoing it. 

Edward St. John and Daphne Fairmont turned out to be down to earth and friendly. Beth took an instant liking to the couple. Besides being in the Royal Navy, Edward was an amateur photographer. 

"Lt. Townsend," Edward said, while Daphne and Mrs. Johnson discussed English gardens, "Albert requested that you sit for me today." He patted his camera case. 

Beth smiled. Al had said something to that effect last night. "Whenever it's convenient, let me know." 

"Well, why not right now? Admiral Jones is upstairs resting and the others are out. This is the perfect time." 

"Where would you like me to sit?" 

"Oh, not in here. The garden, I think." 

Edward led Beth out back to Mrs. Johnson's garden. While he unpacked his camera, Beth asked, hesitantly, "Do you think I could get one of Al?" 

"Certainly! I'll just make a second copy of the one I took yesterday." 

Beth was puzzled. "Yesterday?" 

"Admiral Jones considers Albert an honorary grandson," Edward replied, checking wind direction. "So, when I take a picture of George for his mantle, I'm required to take one of Albert, too. If he's available that is." Edward led her to the wrought iron garden furniture. "I suppose Albert reminds him of what he was like when he was younger." 

It took them half an hour, moving the furniture twice, before Edward was finally satisfied with the light and the angle. He took several pictures of her before he allowed her to move. 

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Edward said, repacking the camera. "Would you like to stop by tomorrow afternoon to pickup the picture of Albert? It wouldn't be practical to take it to the gala tomorrow night and I'm afraid that Daphne, Mrs. Whitmore-Jones, and I will not be here on Sunday. We are going to Miami. If you can't make it, I suppose I could leave it with the admiral." 

Beth considered it. "What time tomorrow?" 

"Oh, around one, if it's not too inconvenient for you." 

Beth's hair appointment wasn't until 1500. "That will work. I'll be here at 1300," she replied, as they headed in. 

Shortly after rejoining Mrs. Johnson and the others, the phone rang. The call was brief and Mrs. Johnson did very little talking. She hung up the phone and turned to her guests. "Admiral Whitmore will be here in ten minutes." 

"Will the others be with him, ma'am?" 

"No, lieutenant. Just the admiral is returning." 

It was the longest ten minutes of Beth's life. 

She was a little surprised when Rear Admiral Adam Whitmore-Jones entered the sitting room. 

Admiral Whitmore was medium height, with plain brown eyes and hair. Out of uniform, he would be unnoticeable. The uniform and his bearing made him stand out. It made him seem six feet tall. 

He walked with a very slight limp, and as he drew closer, Beth saw a pair of gold wings above his impressive rows of ribbons. 

_Like father, like son._ Beth found this peculiar. _If they aren't close, why did George follow the same path?_

"This is Lt. Elizabeth Townsend, Admiral," Mrs. Johnson was saying. 

Adam's full attention was focused on her. He was staring at her, his eyes piercing. 

"Lt. Townsend is from your neck of the woods. She's from Greenbelt," Mrs. Johnson continued with the introduction. The base Protocol Office had provided Mrs. Johnson with some background information on Beth and Janet, so she could properly introduce them to her guests. 

"Lieutenant, it's a pleasure to meet you." 

"Thank you, sir. It's an honor to meet you." Beth was surprised on how calm she was, especially since he was still staring at her. 

"Lieutenant," he said suddenly, "Are you my son's girlfriend?" 

"No, sir." 

This brought a mysterious smile to the admiral's face and he turned toward Daphne and Edward. Beth observed him as he spoke to Daphne. Polite, but not affectionate. Beth decided to wait a little longer before forming an opinion. 

Admiral Whitmore didn't speak to his wife before heading upstairs to change. Mrs. Whitmore-Jones stayed with them a full minute after her husband left before she too left the sitting room. 

Mrs. Johnson and her company sat in awkward silence for several minutes. Beth couldn't bear the silence another moment. She mentally scrambled for a topic of conversation. "You have a lovely garden, Mrs. Johnson." 

"Thank you, lieutenant." 

"Do you like gardens, Beth?" Daphne asked her. 

She nodded. "I had a small garden back home in Georgia." 

For the next hour, Beth engaged Daphne and Mrs. Johnson in a discussion on gardens and flowers. Edward joined in, now and then. 

"Excuse me, my dears," Mrs. Johnson said, rising, "but I should oversee the start of dinner." 

"Ma'am." Beth started, also rising, "May I sit in your garden for a little while?" She didn't want to be there when the Whitmore-Joneses came back down. Beth was determined to wait for Al outside. 

"By all means, lieutenant." 

"If you'll excuse me?" Beth asked the couple, politely. 

"Oh, please, don't feel obligated to keep us company," Daphne replied. 

It took all Beth's willpower not to rush out the front door. She retrieved her book from her car before going to the garden. Once settled contentedly in a lawn chair, she became absorbed in the book. 

The sudden sensation of being watched finally made her look up. 

"Al!" She jumped up and through her arms around his neck, kissing him more ardently than she had since the first kiss. Momentarily startled, it was a second or two before Al responded in kind. 

"Gee, Beth," Al said breathlessly when she finally let him go, "it's only been less than 24 hours since we last saw each other." There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he leaned forward to whispered in her ear. "Imagine if it had been six months." 

Beth blushed. 

"So, how was your day?" 

Beth recounted the afternoon. "Why don't they just get a divorce?" Beth asked, after she told him about Adam and Victoria. "If they don't love each other, why keep up the charade?" 

"Appearances. I hear he's thinking of entering politics and she's the perfect hostess. Besides, it'll ruin both their financial situations and she wouldn't want to move out of. Evermore." Al studied her. "Are you having second thoughts about coming here tonight?" 

Beth smiled at him. "No." 

Al looked around the garden. "I was a little surprised when they told me you were out here." 

"I like gardens, Al. You have a bad memory. Kelly told you that months ago, remember? Besides, it was awkward in there." 

Al chuckled. "Yes, but that seems like a lifetime ago." 

"I miss my garden," Beth said wistfully as she sat back down. Al took a seat across from her. "It was my refuge." 

"I'm surprised your great-aunt even allowed you to have one." 

"It kept me out of sight," Beth replied, "when her friends called for a visit. But I never minded that." 

"Where did she send her sister, when these friends called?" 

"Oh, Gran wasn't shunned." 

"I'm surprised. I was sure your great-aunt would have sent her to the kitchen." Al was annoyed, it seemed, by her great-aunt's treatment of her. 

Beth was gratified. "Aunt Milly had better than that. Besides, she had a housekeeper. In fact, Tess Brown's granddaughters were my childhood friends." 

Linda and Karen Brown were still close friends of Beth. Their friendship had made making other friends in high school difficult. Shunned during her childhood for her illegitimacy, Beth had found her herself being shunned in high school for 'associating with colored folk'. Not all her peer group felt that way. Eventually, Beth had discovered others not so closed minded, and she was able to make a few more friends. 

"I just don't understand people who treat their own family like that," Al was saying still annoyed. 

"Al, she was just old-fashioned. Believe me, she didn't mistreat me. She just couldn't accept the fact that I was illegitimate. Aunt Milly refused to pay for my schooling, but when she died, she left everything she had to Gran and me." 

Al was still annoyed. She decided it was best to change the subject. "Al?" 

"Hmm?" 

"I didn't know Admiral Whitmore was a pilot?" 

"He's not." 

Beth looked confused. "But--" 

"I know," Al said, "the wings." 

"Why is he wearing them?" Beth asked, curious. 

Al sighed. "Back before George was born, he _was_ a pilot, but not for long. You see, after George was born, Adam was in an accident." 

"That explains the limp. Was it a plane accident?" 

"No, a car, or so I was told. Anyway, he healed pretty well, but long flights were excruciating for him. He could barely walk after each flight. So he gave it up. He still takes his private plane up from time to time and occasionally he gets to fly the prototypes. I mean, who would tell him he couldn't? Anyway, he only just started wearing the wings again." 

"It's just a little strange, to me, that George became a pilot too." 

"Well, both his father and grandfather would have supported him, no matter what profession he chose. Now Victoria is different. I think she wants him to resign his commission and enter politics, too. I think it irks her to no end that George rather stay on active duty." 

Beth nodded. Curiosity satisfied, she let the subject drop. 

Al took her hand and they sat quietly until dinner was announced. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Adam Whitmore-Jones was seriously reconsidering his future. 

He had been prepared to retire from the Navy, becoming the first in his family not to wear four stars, and enter the world of politics. All that he had seen and heard this afternoon, had planted a seed of indecision. Adam never had this problem before, he had always known what he wanted. 

The desk where he sat, reviewing the retirement paperwork, overlooked Mrs. Johnson's garden. A movement in the garden caught his eye. He glanced out and saw Lt. Townsend reading. He wondered how long she had been there. 

Adam smiled gently. 

The sound of Victoria emerging from the washroom, forced him to look away. He wasn't in the mood to listen to her accusation this afternoon. She left the bedroom, presumably to hide in one of the other spare rooms or return to the sitting room. 

Adam resumed his contemplation of the young nurse. _Al certainly has good taste_, Adam thought. 

Another movement caught Adam's eye and Al entered the garden, unobserved by the young woman. Curious, Adam sat up straight and watched. Al was able to walk up to her and stand there several seconds before Lt. Townsend realized he was there. Her reaction upon seeing Al surprised Adam. Al looked surprised, too, as far as he could see. Adam continued to watch the exchange and wondered what they were saying. 

The sound of movement in the next room told Adam that his father was up and would be heading down at any moment. 

He gathered up the paperwork and began putting it back in his briefcase, until he came to the retirement letter itself. Adam paused, staring at the unsigned document. He glanced once more at the couple in the garden. 

He made his decision 

Adam removed the paperwork and began tearing the documents, starting with the retirement. He stuffed the evidence back in his briefcase. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Hand-in-hand, Beth and Al entered the dining room. The rest of the dinner party was already assembled. 

"Al! Glad you could make it. Thought you had gotten lost." Admiral John Patrick Jones looked sickly. Too thin and frail, but his sharp eyes and strong voice, belied his features. Those eyes rested on Beth. "Ah. Who could blame you? Stop grinning at me like a ninny and introduce her." 

Beth couldn't help but smile. Al greeted the old man with genuine pleasure and affection. And for his part, the admiral was just as happy to see Al, and just as fond. 

"Call me JP. 'Admiral Jones' is too formal. So, what does _he_ call you?" 

"Beth," she replied, taking his frail hand. 

"A pleasure to meet you, Beth." He looked at Al. "Your taste is improving with age, Al." 

"Thanks, JP." 

"Beth, Janet," JP called to the two nurses, "sit beside me. Sorry Daph. I can sit with you anytime." 

"No problem, love," Daphne replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

Overall, the dinner was awkward, in Beth's opinion. Only JP, Daphne, and Edward made conversation: JP amused the two nurses, and Edward and Daphne conversed with the Johnsons. George and his mother sat in identical silence. Admiral Whitmore attempted to hold a conversation with his son, but got nowhere. Al, who sat across from Beth, listened to JP's stories and watched her. She smiled at him, whenever he caught her eye. 

Half way through the meal, Al decided enough was enough, and started talking to Adam, throwing a dirty look at George, who ignored him. 

After dinner, Al, Beth and Janet were able to make their escape. Janet, who came with George, had to catch a ride with Beth. None of them wanted to be around when Admiral Whitmore had it out with George. 

"Maybe we should invite the Johnsons over for coffee and cake?" Janet said, looking back over shoulder as they walked to Beth's car. 

Beth tried to imagine Rear Admiral Johnson and his wife, sitting in the day room of the women's barracks, and started to laugh. 

Janet gave her an odd look, and turned to Al. "What's with George lately anyway?" 

Al shrugged. "I don't know. He doesn't act like this at sea or in the air. He's your average Joe then. I thought you could answer that." 

"Me? I seldom see him these days." 

Beth stopped laughing and glanced at Al, who was frowning at Janet. He turned back to look at the house, lost in thought. 

"Al?" Beth asked. 

He turned back to the two women. He gave Beth a quick kiss. "Be careful getting home, honey. I'll call you tomorrow." He waved to Janet before getting into his car. 

Janet and Beth stared at each other and Beth shrugged. "Men," she said. 

"Speaking of which," Janet said, sliding into the passenger seat, "did you notice how much Admiral Whitmore was staring at you during dinner?" 

Beth turned to her, startled. The only one she noticed looking at her was Al. "No. Was he really looking at me or his father?" 

Janet face was serious. "He was looking at you. Be careful, Beth." 

"Do you think anyone else noticed?" 

Janet nodded. "His wife." 


	12. Beth and Adam

## **Chapter 11: Beth and Adam**

**1300 HRS. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1960. ADMIRAL JOHNSON'S RESIDENCE**

Beth found herself once more in the Johnson's sitting room, this time waiting for Edward. 

"Lt. St. John called a few minutes ago, lieutenant. He is running behind and asks that you wait," the maid informed her. 

The maid left and Beth heaved a sigh. The last thing she wanted, was to encounter a member of the family. _Maybe they're all out on errands_, Beth thought hopefully. 

Her worst fears were realized when, five minutes later, Adam Whitmore entered the sitting room. 

"Please, stay seated, lieutenant," the admiral requested politely as she moved to stand. He said nothing more, and paced in awkward silence behind her chair. 

"Lieutenant?" he said finally, after several minutes of silence. 

"Yes, sir?" 

"I must apologize to you and Lieutenant Thomas on behalf of my family and myself. I think we have made you and your friend uncomfortable, especially my wife." 

Beth turned in the chair. He seemed sincere and he was looking at her with a kindly expression in his eyes. George had always given her the impression that his father was a cold and indifferent man. 

"Did you know that George had a twin sister?" Adam said, suddenly, before Beth had replied. 

Confused, and startled by such an announcement, Beth shook her head mutely. 

"She was stillborn. I think that's when I realized that Victoria and I were not meant for each other." He paused. "I wanted more children, _she_ didn't." 

_Why is he telling me this? Maybe it's the only thing he can think of to say._ Beth had to admit, it was better than sitting in silence. 

Adam continued. "I had an identical twin brother who died when we were five. I had a lonely childhood and did not want George to have the same." Adam turned and looked out the window at the garden where she and Al had sat the evening before. "It's too late to regret my mistakes. If things had been different. . . . if I had known, then, what I know now, I would have divorced Victoria and lived with those consequences instead. At least then, George might have had sisters and brothers." 

Beth was still confused. It wasn't much of a conversation, since she wasn't required to answer him. Maybe he needed a sympathetic ear, to hear his side of things. It was obvious he was trying to tell her something. From what she could make of it, Adam cared about George, had wanted a large family, and had believed in the beginning that Victoria was the one for him. 

The admiral turned back to face her. "I just wanted you to understand, lieutenant, and forgive us our faults." 

Beth nodded. Bizarre conversation aside, she found herself truly liking him. The revelation had shed some light on his character, at least. She had heard that his mother had been a sweet and gentle person. Some of her personality must have rubbed off on him, softening the sharp edges. 

There was another pause and he seemed to be searching for another topic. Beth was about to bring up Al, when Adam said, "Do you still have family in Greenbelt?" 

"No, sir. My grandmother and I moved to Georgia when I was ten." 

He gave her a puzzled look. 

It was obvious that he was curious about her family. Beth realized she could lie, except that he could quiet easily have someone check into her personnel files and find out anything he wanted. It would just be simpler to tell the truth. 

"My mother and grandfather drowned that summer." 

The change that came over the man was instantaneous. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. His eyes were filled with compassion and sorrow. "And your father?" 

"I'm illegitimate." Touched by his reaction, the words were out of her mouth before she realized it. Beth was horrified. 

There was no pity or disdain in the admiral expression. She decided to continue. "I doubt he knows of my existence. I don't even know who he is." 

"You had a lonely childhood too, I suspect," he stated, gently. 

Beth nodded. "My Great-Aunt Milly made it widely known." 

"Does Al know?" 

Beth smiled, "Yes, sir." 

"I suppose he has told you about his own family too?" 

Beth nodded. Somehow she knew the conversation would lead to Al. "We understand each other; why we feel a certain way about certain things." 

He nodded, understanding. He walked away to pour himself a drink from the bar. "For what it's worth, lieutenant," he said, back to her, "any man would be proud to have you as a daughter. You are beautiful, intelligent and kind. It's his loss for not knowing you." 

It sounded suspiciously like a come-on to Beth, but before she could speak, Edward arrived. 

"I apologize, Elizabeth," Edward said, handing her the sealed envelope. 

She murmured her thanks, took the envelope from him. "I really must be going," she said to the two men, heading for the door. 

"Well, see you at the party this evening," the younger man said, escorting her. The admiral made no move to follow. He politely nodded. 

Once she had driven through the senior officer housing area, Beth pulled into the parking lot of one the small chapels. Beth gathered her thoughts and realized she was trembling. 

Last night, she firmly told Janet that she had been mistaken and was imagining things. The admiral had been looking at his father, not her. _He wouldn't make a pass at me, would he?_ It would certainly explain his questions. If she still had relatives in Maryland, it would be the perfect excuse for her to make trips there without arousing suspicion. 

But Beth wasn't interested in him. He was too old, married, and an admiral. Besides, she was in love with Al. 

_Al._ She decided it would be best not to mention any of her conversation to Al, just in case she was wrong about Admiral Whitmore's intentions. 

Beth picked up the envelope laying on the seat next to her. She carefully opened and slid the picture out. It was a black and white photo of Al, smiling up at her. 

Beth smiled back. All Admiral Whitmore's money couldn't compare to that smile or those eyes. She returned to the photo to the envelope for safekeeping and drove off, feeling much better. 

**SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1960. NURSES' BOQ**

Beth turned back to her reflection in the full length mirror. She was still a little concerned with her choice. It was a strapless, lavender gown and Beth had never worn anything strapless before. She pulled on a pair of opera length gloves, borrowed from Daphne. The gloves nearly reached her shoulders and this made her feel less self-conscious. 

A quick glance at the desk clock told her she had fifteen minutes to spare before Al arrived. 

Sitting on her vanity was the framed picture and another vase of calla lilies. It was silly, Beth knew, but she had found it hard to change earlier in front of that picture. She plucked one of the flowers from her vase and contemplated the man in the photograph. 

At the beauty parlor earlier with Janet and Daphne, the young British woman had referred to Al as her fiancee. Daphne was apologetic when Beth had told her otherwise. Daphne had assumed, from observation, that there was "an understanding" between them. This, coupled with her encounter with Admiral Whitmore and the growing feelings she had for Al, convinced her she had to do something soon. 

The more time she spent with him, and the more she learned about him, the more she fell in love with him. He wasn't perfect, but then, neither was she. Al accepted her, as she was, so the least she could do was return that acceptance. And live with the fact that she would be third in his life. Beth's own career came first, too. After all, she still had Gran to support. 

Al wouldn't change overnight and Beth would have to accept that too, and try not to force the changes. Al was stubborn, and to push him, would only make him more so. It was easier for her to wait for him to come around than argue with him. She saw that much when he told her of Maureen. 

Beth was still unsure of how deep Al's feelings were for her. Did he love her enough to marry her? That in itself would be a major change for Al. 

Tonight, she would tell him how she felt. That is, if her nerve didn't give out first. "In your arm's," she said to the picture, smiling, "while we're dancing." She laughed, feeling silly. 

Beth replaced the flower and stepped into her shoes. She decided to wait for Al on the porch before she started talking to the furniture. 

Just as she opened the door to the porch, Al was walking up to the building, buttoning his gloves. He looked handsome in the short white jacket and black pants. His modest row of miniature service medals and gold wings were perfectly aligned on the left breast. 

Al glanced up as she descended the stairs. Beth smiled at his delighted expression. She could feel her color rising as he stared up. When she reached the bottom, she twirled around, girlishly showing off the dress. "Do you like it?" 

Al was speechless. 

"Well?" She asked impatiently. 

"I love it," he replied simply. "You're breathtaking." 

Beth wound her arms around his neck. "You don't look half-bad yourself." She gave him a quick kiss. 

"Why don't we forget about the party, and go someplace quiet?" he asked her, seductively. 

"Al! Behave yourself," she admonished him, playfully. She didn't want to admit to him just yet that the idea was beginning to appeal to her. 

"Sorry." 

"No, you're not," she said in the same playful tone, "but I'll forgive you anyway." 

"Your benevolence overwhelms me," he replied, kissing her again. 

"Are you two going to stand there all night?" 

Beth jumped at the sound of Kelly's voice behind her. She whirled around to face her. "Kelly! What are you still doing here?" 

Before Kelly could answer, Al asked, "Are you going alone?" 

Kelly shook her head. "No. Patrice's cousin is taking me. He's late." Kelly was annoyed. 

"Do you want us to wait with you?" Beth asked. 

"Only if you promise not to stand there kissing." 

"Can I at least hold her hand?" Al asked, plaintively. 

Kelly grinned, mood lightened by his tone. "No. No hand-holding either." 

The wait wasn't long. Kelly's blind date arrived and Al saw her off, like a protective older brother. "Now, where were we?" he asked her. 

"On our way to the party." Beth pointed out. 

Al sighed, defeated, at least for the time being. "You're a cruel woman, Elizabeth Townsend," he said, opening the car door for her. 

"Yes, I know," she replied lightly. 

**SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1960. PENSACOLA COUNTRY CLUB**

Beth did her best not to stare as she entered the county club on Al's arm. The room was over half-filled with guests. From what Beth could see, the majority of the men were in naval uniforms (mostly American, but there were a few British and other Allied powers). It amazed her that they _followed_ the family down from DC. 

"Aren't those Academy uniforms?" she asked Al, nodding her head in the direction of a small group of young men. 

"Yes. Seniors, of course. I'm surprised, though, that the Superintendent allowed them to make the trip down here." 

They joined the milling crowd of guests, looking for their friends. 

Beth let go of Al's arm and turned to look for Janet. She hoped her friend was having a good time and handling the situation well. Beth spotted Janet talking to a couple, neither were in any type of uniform. Janet seemed to be at ease. George was not with her. 

Beth turned back to Al, and was about to comment on Janet, when she realized that he was no longer at her side. _He can't have gone far,_ she thought scanning the crowd. Beth found him and started toward him. She froze in her tracks when she saw who he was talking with. 

Accompanied by Chip, Al's attention was occupied by three very pretty, young ladies. Though she was still too far away to hear what he was saying, she could tell by his body language, that he was flirting with them. 

Beth wasn't sure which was worse, the jealousy or the hurt. 

Suddenly, George was at her side. 

"Don't be jealous," he said in a low voice. "It doesn't mean anything." Gently, but firmly, he guided her away from the scene. "Al flirts with almost every woman he meets. You know Margie, the waitress? He flirts with her constantly. He brightens her day. Trust me, I've seen him do this countless times." 

Beth was numb, but she realized where George was leading her. JP was sitting in a comfortable chair, in full uniform. There was an empty chair next to him. 

"I'll bet he'll be back by your side in ten minutes." He made her look into his eyes. George was serious. "Trust me. I know him too well. It's harmless." 

George's words and the look in his eyes finally sank into Beth's numb mind: Lt. Cmd. Layton's mother-in-law, Margie, and almost all the nurses at Pensacola. All had been smiled upon by Al Calavicci. It had brightened their day; put them in a better mood. But it never amounted to anything more. The jealousy began to recede as she sat silently next to JP. The pain would take longer, possibly because she had planned to open her heart, and was therefore vulnerable. 

_My back was turned for no more than a few minutes. What could happen if he's TDY or on liberty?_

Beth scarcely paid any attention to JP, but she did hear him order the dance to start. He rested a comforting hand on hers. 

It was actually less than ten minutes when she saw Al scanning the crowd with an anxious look on his face. A small sigh escaped her lips. _George was right._ By now, the jealousy had melted away entirely, but her heart still ache. It would be awhile before she could tell him that she loved him. 

His face lit up when he saw her and he hurried toward her. Beth gave him a small smile. 

Al's expression changed so fast, it startled Beth. "Beth, honey, are you OK? Do you want to lie down?" he asked, concerned. 

JP, watching them, spoke first. "It's probably something she ate." Beth looked at him. JP had a knowing look in his eyes. 

"I'm fine. Really." 

Al wasn't convinced, but he kept his peace. However, he brow was still furrowed in concern. The music began and Beth rose. Al, taking his que from her, led her to the dance floor. 

The only thing keeping Beth from over reacting was the fact that George was right. Plus, she had known, from the beginning, what he was like. He hadn't denied anything. 

Beth rested her head against his shoulder and held him tight. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

"I've changed my mind, Henry," Adam told the staffer on the other end of the line. "I've decided not to retire." 

"But Adam, we're counting on your support. You were enthusiastic about entering the political arena on Monday, and now here it is Saturday, and you're not interested? What happened?" 

"I've decided that I can serve my country better by remaining on active duty, Henry." As always, there was a note of fierce pride in his voice when he spoke of serving in the military. 

"You can fight communism just as easily from an office on the Hill as you can from the deck of a ship or a desk at the Pentagon," the staffer replied. 

_He's probably never served a day in his life,_ Adam thought, disdainfully. "The decision is final," Adam informed the staffer in a cold, commanding tone. "I am not retiring. I have no intentions of entering politics and I have no intentions of _ever_ entering that arena. Is that perfectly clear?" 

"Yes." It was clear to Adam that the man on the other end was trying to control his anger. 

"Thank you. Now, I must get back to my guests. Please pass on my regards to your wife and family. Good night." Adam hung up the phone. 

So far, he had managed to keep the news quiet. Monday morning, it would be all over the local new in Maryland and DC. Adam knew he must inform his family of the change, but he wasn't looking forward to it. 

He stood up from behind the club manager's desk and returned to his guests. 

Several were concerned that an international crisis had arisen and they would all be called back to their respective duty stations to subdue the latest communist threat. Adam didn't bother explaining. He wasn't answerable to any man in that room, with the possible exception of his own father. 

Adam began searching for his own son and saw Al and Beth. Al was walking away from Beth, whose attention was drawn to her friend, Janet. The young nurse looked stunning in her lavender gown and Adam couldn't help smiling. He was about to approach her when she noticed that Al was no longer at her side. Beth seemed to find her missing boyfriend quickly enough. 

The change in her expression caused Adam to look sharply in Al's direction. Because of the crowds, Adam could not see Al from his angle. When he looked back at her, George was at her side, leading her away. Adam was tempted to investigate, but he was waylaid by an old acquaintance. 

By the time Adam was free, his father had ordered the dance to start and the couple was on the dance floor. Adam was so wrapped up in Beth and Al, he nearly plowed into George from behind. 

George was also watching them, looking like he wanted to strangle Al. Adam momentarily forgot them and informed his son of the phone conversation. 

"Mother isn't going to be pleased," George replied. He didn't look at his father, but Adam could see the smirk on George's face. 

"She'll live." Adam was hoping that George would immediately rush off to inform Victoria of the news. George wouldn't want to miss the look on her face when she found out. But George hadn't moved. He stood, watching his friend. 

To the causal observer, the young nurse looked as if she had a headache or her shoes were too tight and Al was in a state of confusion. "How serious are they?" 

"Up until a little while ago, I'd say expect a wedding invitation. I think they were on the brink, but Al did something earlier that upset her. It could end the whole thing." 

"George that doesn't look like a woman who is upset. If she were holding him any tighter, he wouldn't be able to breathe." 

As he hoped, George filled him in on what had transpired. "I warned him," George commented. Adam frowned. 

Without any further comments, George finally walked off, presumably to find Victoria. She would be less than thrilled to hear the news. It would be better for them all if he did not enter politics. One should never enter that arena if one had skeletons in the closet. Especially if there are skeletons one was not aware one had. 

Adam, contrary to rumor and his wife's belief's, did not have a mistress. Victoria would believe that this was the reason for his change of heart. In all the years of marriage, Adam had been unfaithful once and only once. 

It was not long after he gave up flying, due to his injuries. He had tried, discreetly, to find the woman, about fifteen years or so ago, but failed. And now he knew why. 

Adam studied the woman in Al's arms. It was like seeing a ghost. The same face, the same eyes, the same smile, the same laugh. Betty Townsend had captured his heart the moment he set eyes on her. She knew, without a word from him, that she couldn't keep him. However, that didn't stop either of them. 

Earlier today, Adam had his aide check on Elizabeth Townsend's records, specifically her birth date. Without a doubt in his mind, Adam knew she was his daughter. 


	13. The McGinty's

## **Chapter 12: The McGinty's**

**WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1960, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS**

Beth waited by Al's car, shivering. She could have gone in with Al, but opted to stay outside in the snow. 

Maureen was turning out to be vindictive. This was the third motel Beth and Al had come to in search of rooms. Maureen was supposed to have made their reservations weeks ago. When Al had gone to the reception desk at the hotel Maureen had claimed their reservations were made at, they learned that she had 'accidently' reserved them for Thursday and Friday instead of Wednesday and Thursday. The hotel was booked solid for today. 

It was snowing again and Beth hugged herself for warmth. 

Barring the weather and Maureen's little 'slip', the trip up was pleasant. Al had booked separate rooms for them, without her having to request it. Yesterday evening, they had gotten into a snowball fight, which she won, though she suspected he let her. They even built a snowman. It turned out lopsided and it had no face. 

Al appeared. The snow was a sharp contrast against his dark hair and coat. "They have one room left. I called Mr. McGinty and he said either of us is more than welcome to use the guestroom," Al informed her. Beth noticed there were snowflakes in his eyelashes. 

Beth considered the options. She had to trust him alone at the McGinty's. "I'll stay here." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, I'm sure." 

He gazed at her solemnly. "I'm sorry about Maureen," he started to say, but Beth lay two fingers across his lips. He kissed them. 

Retrieving her bags from the trunk, Al led them to her room. 

"So how is this going to work?" Beth asked, sitting down at the little table. 

"We've been invited to dinner tonight," Al said, taking a sheet of writing paper from the desk, and sitting down across from her. "I let you drive, so you can see the way in daylight. After dinner, you can come back here at anytime." 

Beth nodded. It wouldn't make sense for him to make two trips. "When's dinner tonight?" 

"Around six." Al was busy drawing up a map and writing instructions. 

Beth glanced at her watch. Plenty of time. He handed the sheet of paper. "Just in case you need it on the way back tonight, or tomorrow morning." 

"Should we go over now?" She asked, reading over the instructions. 

"Unless you have a better idea," he replied quietly. 

Without looking up, Beth slowly shook her head. 

Al sighed. "I guess we should get going then." 

He handed her the car keys. Beth knew many women whose boyfriends or husbands would give up their right arms before allowing them to drive their cars. Al didn't think twice. He made a quick phone call to tell their host they were on the way. 

Beth had no trouble finding her way and, half an hour later, they were pulling up to a well-kept house on a quiet suburban street. 

They were greeted by a motherly woman, wearing an apron. Her affection for Al was apparent. "Al, it's so good to see you.." 

Doris McGinty was no taller than Al and just as slim. She turned her sunny face toward Beth. "And this must be Elizabeth. You can call me Doris, dear. Now, let's go inside before we catch our deaths." 

Doris' home was warm and comfortable, the way Gran's had been in Greenbelt. Even after Aunt Milly's death, the home in Columbus never felt the same as the first house. 

Sitting in any easy chair, reading the paper, was a stocky, red-headed man. Donald McGinty rose and shook Al's hand. 

"I was beginning to think you forgot all about us, Al," he said good-naturedly. "You can call me Don." This last part was directed to Beth. 

Doris was in the background fussing over them and taking their coats. "Beth", she replied to her host. "You have a lovely home here . . .Don." 

"Why, thank you, Beth. Have a seat. We're not very formal around here." He turned his attention back to Al. "Reeny isn't exactly pleased, you know." Don turned to Beth again. "I'm apologize, Beth, for the inconvenience my daughter has caused." 

_Deja vu. First Admiral Whitmore, now Don. Doesn't Al know anyone who's family doesn't embarrass their guests?_

Al, seated next to her on the love seat, shook his head. "I want and apology from Maureen, Don. I think she's gone too far this time." 

Don rubbed his chin and sighed. "You're right. She should be home soon. She's seeing some friends off." 

Doris reentered from the kitchen, with a tray of hot cider. "Too bad you can't stay the whole weekend," Doris said as she handed out mugs. "We're putting up the tree this weekend." 

"Isn't it a little early?" Al asked her. 

"Oh, we don't put up a live tree anymore, Al. Donny here is getting too old to be lugging those around. We have an artificial one." She sat down with her own mug. "Now, Al, tell us what you've been up to." 

Beth listened as the old friends caught up with each other's lives. Beth didn't feel left out at all. She sat and watched him, and took his hand as Doris told him about some of his old friends. 

Since September, she had been harboring a silent grudge against him. She was being very subtle about it. Al had spent a fortune on flowers for a reason he was completely unaware of. Since that night, she more or less called the shots on where they went and what they did. 

Beth had finally come to terms with the fact that this was something she could not change, even with time. Al hadn't given her a moment of added grief since, and she never had cause to think that he, like George, had strayed. The flirting was just a habit, harmless and meaningless. Though she accepted it, she still had plans to talk to him about it. 

Al flirted with her, constantly, but on a more serious level. It was his way of letting her know he wanted their relationship to become more physical. He wasn't becoming impatient with her, and for that Beth was grateful. He was so understanding, and Beth loved him for it. 

In mid-October, a new pilot by the name of Paul Bennett tried, unsuccessfully, to win her attention. The man was everything she hated: a womanizing, chauvinistic, braggart. Al became jealous, but she set his mind to rest and reminded him that she wasn't overly fond of pilots. Lt. Bennett, as it turned out, wasn't half the pilot Al was, and this soothed any ruffled feathers. 

Beth's train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of Maureen. 

George's description of her was accurate. Shorter than her mother, she had her father's red hair and blue eyes. 

Before any of them could speak, Maureen was babbling on. "I'm so sorry. I don't know where my head was. I had my dates all confused. It's a wonder I knew what year it was." She continued on, breezily. "I guess I was so excited about the elections. Jack Kennedy is such a dream, don't you think?" This last was directed at Beth. 

"Not really," she replied. This left Maureen momentarily speechless. Beth extracted her hand from Al's and offered it to Maureen. "I'm Beth Townsend." 

It was obvious that Maureen did not want to take her hand. She offered the perfect excuse for not doing so. "Oh, my hands are cold," she commented, rubbing them together until her mother brought in another mug of hot cider. 

Beth put her hand back in Al's. She looked at him. He was watching Maureen with a suspicious glare. However, he didn't comment on her excuses or her explanation. He gave Beth's hand a gentle squeeze and began caressing it. 

Because the topic had been brought up, the conversation turned toward the recent election of John F. Kennedy. Beth continued to say very little, letting Al have this time with his old friends. 

Inevitably, the conversation turned to flying, and she watched as his face lit up. She smiled. He looked like a little boy, with a favorite toy at Christmas. 

"Dear me," Doris said, startling Beth from her contemplation of Al. "We're being so rude to Beth, talking on so." 

"I assure you Doris," Beth said, sincerely, "I'm not offended. I know you and your family have a lot to catch up on with Al." 

"I understand you are a nurse?" 

"Yes." 

"And where are you from, dear?" Doris asked her. 

Al's hand squeezed her's again "Originally, from Maryland. I was raised in Georgia." 

"Oh. And what does your father do?" 

"I've never met my father, and my mother died when I was ten." Beth hated to make Doris feel bad, but she didn't want to lie. She discovered, if she said it this way, most people automatically assumed he died before her birth. 

Doris immediately apologized and changed the subject. 

Maureen had sat through the previous conversations, saying more than Beth, but still not an active participant. As Beth talked about her job, it became apparent that Maureen wanted to be anyplace else but there. _Does she really care about him that much?_ Beth thought 

Doris disappeared into the kitchen shortly after that and Al was now discussing sports with Don. Beth was willing to listen, but that would have left Maureen without any one to speak to. 

"What do you do, Maureen?" 

Maureen was startled. "I'm a legal secretary." 

"Oh. What type of law?" 

"Corporate." 

"One of my best friends from high school is a legal secretary. Her boss is in corporate law, too. She wants to become a lawyer." 

"Not me. Too stressful." 

Maureen sat in silence, and didn't offer another topic of conversation. Beth honestly couldn't think of anything else to say. She tried. 

"I'm going to see if Doris needs my help," she informed them. She released Al's hand, almost forgetting that she still held it. 

Maureen made no move to follow and Beth wondered how long it would be before she took Beth's place on the love seat. 

Doris refused her help, saying Beth was company and shouldn't be required to help. But she was glad to have a bit of company in the kitchen with her. Beth manage to help her anyway. 

"You love him, don't you?" Doris asked, quietly. 

Not surprised, Beth nodded. 

Doris sighed. "We always thought that he'd marry Maureen, but Don and I both realize now that it never would have lasted. He needs a marriage that can stand the separation, and Maureen would have left him on his first sea duty." 

"Does she still love him?" 

"Love? I don't know. I think she still believes she can convince him to resign his commission and settle down here." 

Neither woman spoke as Beth set the table and Doris finished preparing the meal. 

"Please call them to dinner, Beth." 

Beth reentered the living room and was surprised to see that Maureen was still sitting where she was when Beth had left. 

During the meal Doris mentioned, in passing, "Al, you may want to strip down the bed in the guest room. It hasn't been slept in for over a year." 

"You know, Beth, you could sleep here, in the guest room, and Al could sleep on the couch," Don suggested. 

"Thank you, Don, but Al did most of the driving and he should sleep on a real bed." 

Maureen's surprised look didn't escape Beth's noticed. Though she trusted Al, she didn't trust Maureen. Regardless if Beth stayed at the McGinty's or not, she just couldn't trust Maureen to behave. She was seriously reconsidering asking Al to stay with her at the motel. 

After dinner, Beth helped Doris and Maureen with cleanup. Doris was also getting her kitchen ready for the holiday dinner. 

The two younger women joined the men. Don was setting up for a game of pinochle. "Reeny, you be my partner tonight. Unless you want to play women against men, Al?" 

"No, this is good," he replied, grinning at his partner. Beth smiled back. She couldn't imagine him playing such a docile game. It was a pleasant surprise. 

Doris observed the game, between kitchen chores. When everything was set for tomorrow, she pulled out her crochet. 

Beth and Al were beating Don and his daughter. Maureen was a sore loser, and they played until Beth heard the clock strike 2230. She couldn't stifle a yawn. 

Doris chides her husband. "I think she needs to get back to her hotel. Al, why don't you go warm up the car for her." 

Don went to get her coat and Doris continued. "I'll have Al call you when we're all up and about, Beth. You can come over anytime after that." She handed Beth a sealed bowl of fresh fruit and a thermos. "For breakfast," she explained, "because I have a feeling the other's will sleep in and I wouldn't want you to go hungry or get lost looking for a place that serving breakfast." 

"Thank you, Doris." She said good night to the McGintys. Even Maureen returned the greeting. 

Al was just getting out of the car when she joined him. He wasn't wearing a coat and she was about to chide him about it, when he caught her up in his embrace and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, pleased. 

The long kiss ended, and as usual, he didn't let go of her. After a minute or so, she realized that her numb feet had nothing to do with the kiss. "Al," she murmured against his lips. 

"Hmm?" 

"I think I'm standing in a snowdrift." 

He let go of her, and she stomped her feet, shaking the snow off her shoes. He took her in his arms again, this time making sure she was standing on the clear sidewalk. 

"Are you sure you don't want company?" He asked her, kissing the tip of her cold nose. 

_Well,_ she thought, looking him in the eyes, _here's my chance._ But even as she thought this, she knew she wouldn't ask him to stay. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Al. Not yet." 

He kissed her again, tenderly. She almost changed her mind. 

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Be careful. Call when you get there. The number's on the map." 

Beth nodded and kissed his cheek. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**

The streets were deserted, but plowed, so Beth made good timing. 

Al was waiting for her call and he had picked up the phone on the first ring. 

"Everything Ok?" he asked. 

"Yes. Do you want me to fill the tank tomorrow?" 

"If you can find a station that's open." 

"I saw one that said it would be open." 

"You be careful." 

"Are you worried about your car, or me?" She asked him, joking. 

There was a pause. "You. I can always replace the car. I could never replace you." 

Beth bit her lip, emotions close to getting the best of her. That statement was so unexpected. "I will," she replied quietly. 

She hung up, wondering if she made the right choice tonight. 


	14. Thanksgiving

## **Chapter 13: Thanksgiving**

**THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 1960, MCGINTY RESIDENCE, CHICAGO, IL**

Beth was ready to go, the next morning when Al called her. He also asked her to bring her packed bags when she came. Al wanted to get the earliest start possible, and he didn't mind sleeping on the pullout couch in the living room. 

When Beth arrived, there were several other cars parked in front of the McGinty residence. Doris had mentioned that there would be other guests for dinner. 

Al was waiting for her on the front steps. He was wearing his uniform, as a special favor to Doris, who had specifically asked him to wear it. She waited until she was on the porch with him before asking, "How'd it go last night?" 

He knew what she meant. "Fine. She went to her room and didn't come out until this morning." Al wore a puzzled frown. "She's been giving me the cold shoulder since." 

Beth didn't know what to make of it. She was sure she hadn't misread Maureen, and she didn't think Al was lying to her. In light of what Maureen had done, Al wasn't likely to forgive her. Beth nodded, also puzzled. She handed him the keys. "The tank's filled, windows are cleaned, and the oil's checked. The station attendants nearly tripped over themselves to help me." She grinned. "I didn't have the heart to tell them, it was my boyfriend's car." 

Al smiled, and leaned forward to kiss her, picking up where they had left off the night before, when she heard a polite cough behind her. 

Beth turned to look as Al said, "You must be the Harpers. Doris told me to keep an eye out for you." 

The couple who stood on the path looked no older than twenty, and the young woman was obviously pregnant. "Sydney Harper. And this is my wife, Beatrice. I just started working for Mr. McGinty." 

"Al Calavicci," he replied, extending his hand to the couple. "I went to school with Maureen." He turned to Beth. "And this is Beth Townsend." Pointing out that she was his girlfriend was unnecessary, given the scene that they interrupted. 

"Where did you park?" Al asked, after the pleasantries were dispensed with. "I didn't see the car pull up." 

"Hyacinth's driveway." 

Al shook his head, as he opened the door for them. "I keep telling Don he needs to cut down that hedge, especially since Hyacinth's all alone." The hedge that bordered Don and his neighbor's properties, obscured the view of the anyone standing on his porch. 

Doris was waiting in the foyer. "Now, we are all here." She took everyone's coats and herded them into the living room for further introductions. 

Another couple, Harvey and Rose Carmichael, had much in common with the Harpers. Both were young, newly employed, with no family in the area. They had an infant son, Harvey, Jr. 

Maureen was speaking with another young lady who was introduced to Beth as Hannah Young. She was the new receptionist at the office Maureen worked in. She, too, was new to the area. 

The last person Beth was introduced to was the elderly, widowed, neighbor lady, Hyacinth Scott. She was the only other person who met Al before that morning. 

"She's a lovely young lady, Al," Hyacinth said to him. She turned to Beth. "He's been telling me all about you." 

Beth glanced at Al. That would explain Maureen's behavior. If Al had spent most of the morning talking about her, in Maureen's presence, she was bound to be touchy. 

Don rounded up the men, and Al reluctantly disappeared into the den. Rose, Beatrice, Maureen, and Hannah fussed over Harvey, Jr. Doris had disappeared into the kitchen. Beth was about to see if she needed any help, but realized that Hyacinth would be all alone. 

Hyacinth was glad for the company, and talked about her children and grandchildren, none of whom had come home for the holidays in a number of years. This immediately made Beth think about Gran. She was feeling guilty about abandoning her on Thanksgiving 

Gran had been thrilled, when she learned of Beth's plan, and Beth suspected that she was hoping something came of the relationship with Al. Though Grace Townsend would never pressure her granddaughter into marriage, just for the sake of it, she also did not what her to be alone. 

Hyacinth talked nearly an hour, when Doris joined them. Both ladies pulled out their crochet. The conversations, lead by Doris, now included the other women. Doris gave out motherly advice to the new, and the expectant, mothers. Then Doris turned her attention to Hannah for awhile. 

Maureen, Beth observed, avoided speaking to her. She also avoided looking at Beth. 

Doris made a move to check on dinner. Beth stood up and said, "I'll go check, Doris." It was the opening Beth was looking for. On her way to the kitchen, she ran into Al, heading for the downstairs powder room. 

"Meet me on the back porch in five minutes. I'll get your coat," she said. 

Al nodded and Beth checked on dinner. She told Doris and the others, "I'm going out back for some air and a cigarette. The turkey should be at least another forty-five minutes." 

No one noticed that she pulled two coats from the closet, or that she took Al's cap from the telephone stand. 

Outside, mounted in the middle of the yard, was a porch swing. Someone, Don most likely, had cleared the flagstone path to the swing, and removed the snow from the seat. 

Al, buttoning his coat, saw what she was looking at and said, "Don and Doris like to come out here everyday and sit on that swing." 

"Sounds like a good idea. Doris is talking about diaper rashes and blind dates," Beth told him, taking his hand as they cross the yard. "I felt a little left out, though I'm sure Doris wasn't doing it intentionally. After all, I'm not her only guest." 

"Don and the others starting talking shop, so I know what you mean. Harvey and Sydney did ask a lot of questions, before, about my job." 

The swing was dry, but Beth was thankful for the length of her coat. They sat in silence, holding hands and swinging, each lost in thought. After a few minutes, she reached over with her free hand and touched his cheek. He jumped, startled. 

"You were miles away just then," Beth commented, half turning on the seat, facing him. 

"Not really," he replied, also turning. "I was thinking about you." 

Beth studied him. "Al, remember the birthday party for JP? Do you remember that I was upset?" 

"Yes, I do. I've been trying to figure out why since." 

"Well, you did something that hurt me that night." 

Al thought hard, with a puzzled frown. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I did," he confessed sincerely. "Did I step on your foot? Did I not compliment you enough on how good you looked it that dress?" 

Beth had to laugh. "You told me many times how much you loved that dress on me." She turned serious again. "Give up?" 

He sighed and said, "Whatever it was, I did it unintentionally, and I'm sorry. I won't do it again." 

Sincere and honest. Beth shook her head. "It was something you did unconsciously. It's a habit, and you have done it over and over again since that night. But I'm okay with it now." 

Al stared at her more confused, if that was possible, then before. "Flirting," she explained. "You do it so naturally, so innocently even, that you don't always realize it. I've seen you flirt with a variety of women, regardless of the age or marital status." She paused. "But the night of the party, when I saw you with those . . .debutantes, it nearly broke my heart. The only thing that save it, was George, who reminded me that it was nothing but a habit and you would be back by my side in less than ten minutes. He was right." 

Realization dawned. "Beth, honey," he started to say, but she cut him off, gently. 

"Don't apologize, Al. Just be more careful, please. I just don't want you actions to misconstrued by a third party, Al. I know, now, it's a habit, but....." She trailed off, and touched his cheek again. 

"Someone could get the wrong idea," Al supplied, "and blow the whole thing out of proportion. It could get me into trouble and end up hurting you." 

Beth nodded, and sighed. He understood. "Anyway, I was hurt and couldn't bring myself to--" She stopped, abruptly, realizing what she was about to say. 

"To what?" Al prompted, gently. 

She looked into his eyes. "To say that I love you, Al." 

Al was absolutely still for several seconds. He leaned forward. Just before their lips met, he whispered, "I love you, Beth." 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

The last of the guests had left. Doris was finishing up in the kitchen, and Don was asleep in the den. 

Maureen handed Al some sheets, a blanket, and a pillow. "Goodnight," she said to them. She paused on her way up to her room. "Since I won't see you in the morning, I'll say goodbye now. Nice meeting you, Beth." 

That was the most she had said to either of them all day. All through dinner, she spoke to them only if she needed something passed, and during the card games, only if it was in reference to a turn. 

Finally alone since before dinner, Beth sat down next to Al on the couch. He slid an arm around her. 

"I really like this couple, Al. They open their home to others. I'm really glad we came." 

Al smiled, loosening his tie. "Me, too. I just wish. . ." 

Beth knew what he meant. Maureen. "I bet Doris will set her alarm and have breakfast on the table for us." 

"You'd win." 

"Is there anyway to stop her?" 

"Knock her senseless." 

"Al!" 

"Just so she'd sleep to noon," he replied, innocently. 

They were quiet for a moment. 

"When did you first realized that you loved me?" Al asked suddenly. 

"You mean, when did I first admit it to myself? I think I was in love with you almost from the beginning, but it wasn't until August that I admitted it to anyone. And you?" 

"The same. I told George how I felt about you, that morning he took you to breakfast." 

Beth looked up at him, startled. "I told him, at breakfast." 

They were quiet again. Beth was beginning to feel sleepy. She rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. She was close to sleep when Al spoke again. 

"I know why you didn't say anything sooner, but you haven't asked me why I hadn't." 

Beth smiled. "You're afraid of your past, like me." 

"You know me so well," he murmured. "Most women would have gone off the deep end, because of what I did, but not you." 

She lifted her head to look at him. "Al, you never denied your behavior, and I knew those things about you before we even met. Yes, some would say I'm being too tolerant. If we love each other, we have to learn to work through our differences." 

He was silent, thoughtful. Beth continued. "Al, I know what you want from me. I know that you what me to sleep with you. You've never actually come out and asked me, but I know that's what your intentions are." She paused, searching his face for a denial. Finding none, she continued. "You've accepted my hesitation without rejecting me, and you've been so patient. So many men out there wouldn't be as accommodating." 

He studied her face, understanding. "I've always believed that both partners had to be willing. It wouldn't be much fun, you know," he said in a low voice, "if you weren't comfortable with it." 

From the look in his eyes, there was no way Beth could mistake his meaning. She felt herself blush. "It's not to say that I don't want to," she started to say. 

"I know, Beth," he said, gently. 

She stifled a yawn. Reluctantly, she stood up. He didn't try to stop her. 

"I think I should turn in." Beth looked back down at Al. "Since you're doing the driving, why don't you sleep in the guest room?" 

Al looked up at her, amazed. 

In light of the conversation they just had, Beth realized how that sounded. "Alone." 

He chuckled. "Something told me that's what you meant." Al looked at the couch and then back up at her. "No. I'll be fine." 

Beth leaned down and kissed him. "Good night, Al." 

"Remember, 0500 hours sharp." 

"See if you can talk some sense into Doris before she goes to bed." 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**

It wasn't fair. 

Maureen sat on her window seat and listened to the guest room door close. 

Last night, Maureen had looked out the window and had witnessed the parting kiss between Al and Beth. She also spied them kissing on the swing in the backyard. 

She had tried to convince herself that she had been mistaken in August. From the moment Maureen set eyes on the couple, she could no longer deny that Al was in love with that nurse. The way he looked at her, the way he talked about her, the way he said her name. It set Maureen's teeth on edge. 

But he wasn't sleeping with her. She was sure of that. If he was, why the separate rooms? Why was he sleeping on the couch, while she spent the night in the guest room? This confused Maureen. It was obvious that Beth wasn't immune to his charm, and she knew Al well enough to know that he wanted Beth. Everything had worked out in their favor, and they weren't acting upon it. This was Al, after all. Maureen had expected him to leave last night, and instead he stayed with them. And this evening, well, if he didn't go with Beth the night before when they had complete privacy, it wasn't likely that he was with her now. For someone obviously in love, he was acting as if he and Beth were nothing more than good friends. 

Beth. 

Maureen couldn't see anything special about her. Oh, she had a nice porcelain complexion, beautiful brown eyes, and a warm friendly smile, but she wasn't what Maureen considered a great beauty. Some might say she was pretty or lovely, maybe even wholesome or sweet. What Al saw in her, she'd never know. 

Al could've been hers, should've been hers, if he had stayed in Chicago like she wanted. Instead, he had to be stubborn and insisted on attending Annapolis. She tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't hear of it. 

_And now some Georgia peach has stolen him_, she thought bitterly. 

It just wasn't fair. 


	15. Christmas Gifts

## **Chapter 14: Christmas Gifts**

**SATURDAY, DECEMBER 10, 1960, BOB'S DINER, PENSACOLA, FLORIDA**

George glanced over the top of his _Navy Times_ at the man sitting across from him. 

Al had barely spoken a word this morning. He was absently stirring his coffee. 

Al took his coffee black. 

"Can't decide what to get her for Christmas?" George asked, as he flipped the page. 

"No. I've already decided that. I just don't know when to give it to her," Al replied, absently. 

"Most people opt for December 25th, for some reason. It's become quite a trend." George glanced at Al again. Either he didn't hear him or he was ignoring him. "Did you have any trouble with the color or the size?" 

"Huh? No, I'll stick with the traditional color. As for size, she can always have it fitted." 

George felt as if he had missed something important. "Are we having the same conversation?" he asked, setting the paper aside. "I was talking about Beth's Christmas gift." 

"So was I," Al said, finally putting the spoon down. 

"So, what are you getting her?" 

Al blinked, surprised. "You don't know?" 

"No," George replied, surprised he was keeping his temper. "How could I? You haven't said what you're getting her." 

"Then how can we be having the same conversation, if you don't know what I'm talking about?" Al asked, calmly. 

George stared hard at his friend. This was going way too far. "Al, do me a favor." 

"Yeah, what?" 

"Just ask her to marry you, and put us all out of our misery." 

"Bingo," Al replied, raising his coffee mug. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

George was staring, open-mouthed. 

"Do you know anything about diamonds?" Al asked, sipping the lukewarm coffee. 

George was still dumbstruck. 

"You know, I don't know why you're surprised. I told you a long time ago that I loved her. It was bound to happen." 

Al himself was still a little surprised with his decision. 

He had made it on the trip back. 

Al had given it a lot of thought, while Beth dozed in the passenger seat beside him. He had finally found the one woman in the world he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, who loved him for who he was and in spite of his faults. Beth wasn't trying to make him over into her idea of what a potential husband should be. The irony of it was, he _wanted_ to change for her. 

It also didn't hurt that he thought her lovely, smart, sweet, warmhearted, and irresistible. 

"What happened?" George finally blurted out. 

Al peered at him, suspiciously. He hoped this wasn't a reoccurrence of what happened in October. George's odd behavior had worried them all. "When?" 

"Thanksgiving, of course." 

"If you mean, was there any bingo-bango-bongoing, the answer is no." 

George frowned at him. "Thank you for sharing, but I wasn't getting _that_ personal." 

Al filled him in on what had happened in the McGinty's backyard. He seemed interested in the part about Al's flirting, and how Al reacted to the news when she told him. 

George shook his head and said, "Personally, I don't know a whole lot about diamonds, but I could refer you to a reputable jeweler." 

Al nodded, swallowing the last of his now cold coffee. "Thanks, George." 

**FRIDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1960, TOWNSEND RESIDENCE, COLUMBUS, GEORGIA**

Beth barely waited for the car to stop before opening the car door and bolting up the porch stairs. 

"Gran!" 

Grace Townsend waited on the porch of the Victorian-style house, beaming at her as she ran up for a hug. Beth found it hard to believe that a whole year had gone by. 

"My angel," Gran said, returning her hug. The silver-haired woman held her away and said, "Still as lovely as ever." 

"No arguments there," a slightly, gravelly voice said from behind Beth. 

Al! She had completely forgotten him! 

"And this must be Albert," Gran was saying. 

"Please call me Al, Mrs. Townsend." He gave her one of his smiles, turning on that near-legendary Calavicci charm. 

Gran wasn't immune to it either. "Welcome, Al. And please call me Gran or Grace, whichever you feel more comfortable with, dear." 

Beth watched the exchange with a gentle smile. A thoughtful look crossed Al's face, as he considered the options Gran gave him. "Gran," he replied. 

"Well, let's not stand here all day," Gran said, ushering them into the house. 

The first thing Beth noticed upon entering her childhood home was the smell. It smelled of pine and cinnamon. 

Gran had already decorated most of the house, as far as Beth could see. The live tree stood bare in the living room. 

Gran noticed what she was looking at. "I left the tree for you and Al to do, dear," she said as she stood in the entrance way to the living room. "The ornaments are still in storage, though." 

Without preamble, Al stepped up to her grandmother and kissed her on the cheek. Gran turned bright pink. "Why, Al!" 

Al glanced up. Gran was standing under mistletoe. "I forgot that was there," she said, laughing. 

Al gave Beth a sly look and Beth arched her eyebrows at him, as if to say _since when do we need mistletoe to kiss_? 

Gran had seen the looks, but made no comment. Instead she asked, "What would you like for lunch?" 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Grace watched Al and her granddaughter as they hung ornaments on the tree. Grace put a hook on the last one. 

_She's so much like Betty_, Grace thought sadly, _and yet so different_. 

Betty had been bubbly and outgoing, but not what most people would consider 'loose'. She had made the mistake of falling in love with a married man, and suffered for it. 

At first, Betty had been depressed. She never saw the man again, according to the diary. Grace and Henry did not know, at the time, of the man's existence. Betty became distraught, when she found out she was pregnant. _I have let my father down_, her diary said. 

But Henry loved Betty so much, he couldn't stay angry with her for long, even in the predicament she was in. Once her father accepted the situation and forgave her, Betty had blossomed. She no longer cared what others thought, as long as her parents supported her. 

Beth, on the other hand, was more quiet, reserved, and cautious. Times had changed, but Beth still held to a moral code that was more along the lines of the one Grace herself had held to. Her granddaughter was very much in love with the man helping her with the tree. Instinct told Grace that a certain boundary had not been crossed, and would not, so long as Beth's childhood haunted her. 

Grace suspected that the young pilot was aware of the family history. Beth would have had to concoct a creditable story otherwise, for him not to be asking a dozen questions. 

Beth had talked about Al constantly in her letters and on the phone, but Grace felt she was leaving things out about him. As for the man himself, he seemed just as taken with Beth as she was with him. Grace had spied them earlier, kissing, after Al had brought the last of the boxes from the attic. She had never seen Beth kiss a man as ardently as she had kissed Al. 

The young couple was putting the finishing touches on the tree. Al searched for an outlet for the lights. Beth stepped away from the tree, as Al plugged in the lights. He stood next to her, put an arm around her waist, and together they looked at the tree. Beth slid her arm around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. 

_Did they forget I was here?_ Grace thought, amused. She held her peace, not wanting to intrude on their moment. Also, she didn't want to startle them, just in case they _had_ forgotten her. 

"What do you think, Gran?" Beth asked, not turning. 

So they hadn't forgotten her. _About you and Al? It looks serious to me_, "The tree looks lovely, dear. Thank you both." 

The couple turned and Grace noticed how exhausted Al looked. "Al, why don't you go take a hot bath. I've run you ragged." 

Al smiled at her and it made her feel young. He had a powerful weapon there. It was a wonder Beth had fallen from her ivory tower. 

"I'm glad you said that, Gran," Al was saying. "I don't think I could keep my eyes open much longer. Between Beth wanting to leave at oh dark thirty, driving, and then lugging boxes, it's a wonder I didn't fall asleep at dinner." 

Al gave her granddaughter a gentle kiss good night and disappeared upstairs. 

Beth remained silent as she helped Grace straighten up. Beth unplugged the tree, and Grace turned off all the lights except the hall. 

"You're not turning in, are you?" Beth asked her, hesitantly. 

Grace smiled. "No dear, but let me change first." 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

There was a tapping on Grace's door a half an hour later, as she sat up in bed reading. 

Beth came in, dressed in her nightgown and robe. She climbed into bed, just like she did when she was little. 

"What's on your mind, angel?" Grace knew, but she wanted to hear her say it. 

Beth looked hesitant and thoughtful. "Al." 

Grace smiled. "Beth, that's obvious." 

Beth smiled ruefully. "So I've been told. He's been acting a little strange since Thanksgiving. A good kind of strange." 

"Angel, have you told him about your parents?" 

Beth nodded. "He knows the truth." She paused. "And he told me about his family." 

"Yes?" 

Beth continued on hesitantly, as if she still wasn't sure she should be telling her things about Al's family. Grace did not interrupt. 

"Do you love him, Beth?" 

Beth face lit up. "Yes, Gran, I do." She giggled, turning bright red. "You don't realize how much I want to run across the hall and lock myself in there with him." 

"I don't think he has the energy right now, Beth. Wait until tomorrow." 

"GRAN!!" Beth exclaimed. Her face was still red. Grace chuckled. "But, you are wrong about one thing, Gran. If I went in there right now...well...he would find some energy. Trust me." 

"So, you love him. Do you love him enough to marry him?" 

A determined look crossed her face. "Yes. In spite of everything, yes." 

Grace looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" 

Beth sighed frustrated. "He may never ask me, Gran." 

"Angel, you've only known one another since June," Grace pointed out 

"We spend most of our free time with each other. I know more about him than any of my childhood friends." She slid off the bed and began to pace. "I think he's marriage shy, Gran." 

"Because of his mother?" 

"Yes. I want children, Gran, his children. But Al doesn't believe in dragging them from one assignment to another. His own father was seldom around, and Al wouldn't be there for ours. He hasn't said it, but I know he's afraid that I would leave them like his mother left him and his sister." 

"Beth, there is no guarantee that you would have a child in the same situation as his sister," Grace pointed out. 

"I know that, Gran, but I don't think I could convince Al that." 

"But you would still marry him, knowing this?" 

Beth closed her eyes. "Yes." 

"Angel, if he does ask you to marry him, then he has overcome one fear. And if he overcomes one, he could certainly get over another. Don't loss faith, dear heart. Maybe one day, he'll see a child in playground or a park, and suddenly he'll want one of his own." 

Beth stared at her as if this hadn't occurred to her before. "I suppose you're right." 

"Now, dear, why don't you get some rest." 

**SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1960, TOWNSEND RESIDENCE**

"This is where I spent most of my youth." 

AL looked around the bare garden, imagining a lonely girl, learning to plant and care for flowers. 

"I used to play pretend here, too," Beth continued, thoughtfully. 

Al said nothing. He slid his arm around her waist as they walked along the flagstones. She did the same. 

All morning he had sensed the dual emotions this place stirred within her. The good memories of Grace and the flowers, and the bad of being shunned by her aunt. Al had seriously thought of proposing there, but it felt wrong. 

"So, who's coming over tonight?" he asked. 

"Mostly old friends." 

They walked on in silence for a few seconds. Al glanced at her. "Any old boyfriends?" 

Beth laughed, mood lifted. "No. These are high school friends. I didn't date in high school, Al." 

"You're kidding. A good-looking girl like you?" Al had seen her senior picture. Grace had pointed it out this morning. 

As he hoped, Beth turned pink and looked shyly away. 

"I love it when you blush," he whispered in her ear. She turned even redder. "Let's go back inside and find some mistletoe to stand under." 

Her eyes were sparkling. "Since when do you need mistletoe?" 

"Never, but it's a convenient excuse in case Gran comes along." 

"Oh, you don't have anything to worry about. I think she likes you a lot." 

"I didn't think it would be that easy." 

"All you had to do was smile." 

Al opened the back door for her. "You really do take after your grandmother." 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Al patted his uniform jacket pocket. The ring was loose in his pocket, and he wanted to make sure he hadn't lost it. 

He had placed it there, at the last minute, still uncertain of the timing. The guests had started to arrive before Beth came down (which was unusual for Beth), so he hadn't had a chance to see her alone since their walk in the garden. Now all the guests were here and the party was in full swing. 

"Al, help me with the punch bowl." Grace sounded more authoritative than some commanders he knew. 

While he helped Grace with the punch, he scanned the room until he found Beth, talking to a couple. She was wearing the lacy silk eggshell blouse Janet had given her for Christmas and an emerald green velvet skirt. She was fiddling with the lace of her collar with her left hand. An image of that hand wearing the engagement ring rose in Al's mind. 

He had to find a way to get her alone. Now. 

"Could you take your mind off her for five minutes, Al," Grace said at his elbow. 

Al turned his attention back to the punch bowl. It was amazing that he hadn't gotten punch on himself. 

"Thank you," she said, slightly amused. 

Al glanced at Grace. She was looking at him . . .knowingly. "Take my advice," she said to him in a low voice. "Don't wait." 

He gave her a surprised look, and she smiled up at him. "You've only patted your right pocket a dozen times and I know your cigarettes are in the left pocket." 

It was her way of giving consent. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. 

While his attention was averted, Beth had moved, but that suited Al fine. He opened the front door and sat on the front porch. Either Beth would come looking for him on her own accord, or Grace would send her to him. 

Either way, Al used the momentary solitude to collect his thoughts. 

He loved her. He wanted her. He wanted to marry her. 

Al knew what he was getting into, committing himself to one woman, for life. Al smiled. He had always been faithful to the woman in his life, but this was the ultimate test: remain faithful. The idea of coming home to someone had appealed to him. Of course, she worked, too, but that was fine. As long as he knew she would be there at some point, it was enough. After all, he would be at sea months at a time. 

The door opened and Beth stepped out into the cold night. "There you are! I've been looking for you." 

Al stood, rummaging in his uniform pocket. She was watching him, innocent and unsuspecting. Oddly, he didn't feel as nervous as he thought he would be. "I have an early Christmas gift for you, Beth," Al said, taking her left hand. 

Beth smiled, puzzled. "Oh, Al, I don't have one for you. An early gift, I mean." 

This made him smile. "Actually, you do, honey." With that, he slid the ring on her finger. A perfect fit. Looking into her eyes, he asked "Will you marry me, Beth?" 

She was trembling and had turned first white, then pink. She lowered her eyes to stare at the ring on her finger, and then she looked back up at him. There were tears in her eyes. 

Beth began to laugh. 

Al was stunned, it was the last thing in he had expected her to do. 

"Just last night," Beth began to explain, voice quivering with tears and laughter, "I was telling Gran that I didn't think you would ever ask me to marry you." 

Al smiled at her, and gently wiped a tear from her cheek. "You haven't answered me, honey," he reminded her gently. 

She nodded, trying to get her breath. "Yes, Al. I will marry you." 

Al closed his eyes and drew her into his arms, holding her tight. 

Behind them, the sound of the guests singing Christmas carols could be heard. 


	16. Reactions

## **Chapter 15: Reactions**

**TUESDAY, JANUARY 3, 1961, NURSES' BOQ, NAS PENSACOLA**

"We've split up." 

Beth looked up from unpacking. Janet and Kelly stood in her open doorway. 

"Oh, Janet," Beth said sadly. 

The two friends entered and Kelly closed the door behind them. 

Janet shrugged. "I'm over it." 

"That quick?" 

"Well . . ." She paused. "I never really loved him. I think, if I'd had any deep feeling toward him, then yes I'd still be upset about it." She paused again. "I met all the requirements for a socially acceptable girlfriend of one of the country's most eligible bachelors. That's all I really was to him. And to be honest," she continued, looking a little ashamed, "I suppose he met the requirements as an acceptable boyfriend for me, in my father's eyes. I never really saw beyond his bank account." 

Beth was speechless after that confession and revelation. She turned back to unpacking, unsure of what to say. Janet was more ashamed of herself than upset with the breakup. 

It was quiet for a few minutes. 

"What did your family think of Al?" Kelly asked suddenly, breaking the silence. 

"My family loved him," she answered truthfully, thinking back. 

A few minutes after Al had proposed to her, Gran came out on the porch to check on them. They were still standing there in each other's arms. She officially welcomed Al into the family, and got a little teary eyed. The three went back in. Gran made the announcement and the guests made a toast. 

Christmas Day was anti-climatic, in a way, but the three spent it talking and making plans. With Al about to leave on another cruise, and a date set for June, the bulk of the planning and leg work fell to Beth. Al had suggested that they wait until fall, but Beth didn't mind that she had to do all the work. She wanted to be a June bride. Not wanting to start their engagement with an argument, Al didn't push the subject. 

Because their time was short, Beth made a strange request, as they drove back to Pensacola. 

_"Al? I know this is going to sound crazy, but I'd like to keep our engagement quiet, at least until you've shipped out."_

_Al looked at her puzzled, "Why?"_

_"Well, we only have a few days together before you leave and I'd like to spend them quietly, with you. I don't want a bunch of people trying to throw together last minute parties or anything."_

She could tell Al was still puzzled by her request, but he thought it over as they drove on. About five miles from the base he agreed with her request, but told her that George and Adam already knew. He would make George swear to secrecy. 

"Yoo-hoo! Beth?" Kelly was standing beside her, trying to get her attention. 

"Yes, Kelly, I know you're there." 

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" 

"You asked me what my family thought of Al and I answered." 

Kelly glanced at Janet, crossed her arms, and shook her head. "I was telling you what my family did on Christmas Day." She peered at Beth. "What happened?" 

"Nothing," Beth said. She tried to contain her excitement. It wasn't working. She could feel her color rising. 

"Oh, yes it did! You're changing colors. Out with it, Beth. What happened?" 

As much as she wanted to keep things quiet, Beth realized it would be simpler to tell them and then make them promise to keep it to themselves. "Well, something did happen, but if I tell you, you have to promise to keep it a secret of a little while." 

Janet and Kelly exchanged looks, curious. Both nodded. 

Beth pulled the ring out of her locked jewelry chest, and slid it on her finger. 

Both women's eyes grew wide with surprise. Kelly recovered first. "He asked you to marry him?" 

Beth could only nod. 

Janet studied the diamond. "Nice size rock, too," she commented, impressed. 

Kelly looked up at Beth. "Oh Beth, I'm so happy for you." 

Beth's two friends hugged her impulsively, smiling, with tears in their eyes. When they recovered, Janet asked. "Why all the secrecy?" 

Beth shrugged. "I just want to enjoy these last few days with Al, quietly." 

"Sounds romantic," Kelly commented, giving her a sly wink. 

Beth laughed. "We have plans to make, Kelly." 

"I take it that George will be the best man?" Janet asked, seriously. 

Beth nodded. The room fell silent, as the three looked at one another. Beth knew what was on the their minds: who would be the maid of honor. 

She had given it some thought on the way back. She told Al that she couldn't decide on which one to ask. Beth and Kelly had been friends for about a year now, since her arrival at Pensacola. She and Janet only became friends once she started seeing Al, since George and Al were such good friends. The only advice Al could give her was for her to ask both to be members of the bridal party. He would find someone to be a groomsman, if that was her plan. But the problem would still be there. 

Janet spoke up, breaking the silence. "Beth, with Al gone, you could use some help with the planning. I've been in so many weddings and seen how badly some of them were planned, that I've always wanted to plan one. If you don't mind, I would like to be your wedding coordinator." 

Beth hesitated. 

"Beth," Janet said, looking serious. "I can see the dilemma you're in. I sincerely want to do this. I've been a bridesmaid or a maid of honor nearly every year since I was sixteen. My mother has a huge Irish family." She looked over at Kelly. "Did you know, the summer I graduated from high school, I was in seven weddings? Most were family." 

"Goodness!" Beth commented, impressed and amazed. 

Kelly gave Janet and impish grin. "You know that saying about being a bridesmaid?" 

"Don't you dare." Janet threatened. 

Beth giggled. Relieved, she took Janet's hand. "Thank you, Janet. It means a great deal to me." 

"So," Kelly asked, still grinning impishly. "Does this mean I'm the maid of honor?" 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

The morning of Al's departure, Beth got up a little earlier than normal to meet Al at the airfield. She was dreading this separation. They'd been together almost daily since June, and her days were about to feel empty, even with the wedding plans. 

She slipped out, unobserved. Good thing, too. She wore the engagement ring, and if any of the others had seen her wearing it, she would have been waylaid. 

Al was waiting for her. 

Beth wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him without so much as a "Good morning." 

Al gently and reluctantly disengaged himself. "Don't want the old man to see us, and start one of his fraternization tirades," he said softly, not letting go of her. "Oh, before I forget." He reached into his flight suit pocket, and pulled out a pair of gold wings, slightly smaller than the ones he normally wore on his uniform. 

He handed them to her. "It's a tradition, of sorts. A pilot is supposed to give a pair of wings to his wife, mother, or girlfriend. I think I heard someone call them 'sweetheart wings'." 

Beth's fingers closed around the wings, emotions almost getting the best of her. "That's sweet, Al. Thank you," She opened her hand, looking down at the wings, trying to decide where to put them. 

She looked back up into his serious dark eyes. He leaned closer to her and whispered, "I love you." 

Beth could feel the tears building up. She didn't want to start crying, but this was more difficult than she'd imagined it would be. "It's going to be miserable here without you, Al." 

"I know, honey. You'll be so busy, I'll be home before you know it." 

"And half the things will still be undone," she replied ruefully. 

He smiled. "Yeah, it seems to work out that way, doesn't it?" 

"Please be careful, Al." 

"I will," he assured her. 

Al pulled her closer. He kissed her, this time more deeply than before. It would be their last kiss for a long time. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Commander Shirley Layton gathered up a stack of paperwork at the main station, waiting for the rest of the shift to arrive. It was still a bit early, but she liked to greet the subordinates who worked the shift with her. 

The door opened and Lt. Townsend wandered in. 

_Wander_ was the appropriate word. Lt. Townsend looked as if her mind was a million miles away. She also looked depressed. 

All sorts of alarms went off in Shirley's head. "Good morning, Lieutenant. You're a little early this morning." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Why don't you join me for a cup of coffee, before the others arrive?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

The cafeteria was relatively empty. At this time of day, most of the activity was back in the kitchens. 

Shirley didn't need to ask her what was wrong because she noticed the engagement ring as Lt. Townsend reached for her coffee. She put two and two together. 

"Well. I never thought I'd see the day Al Calavicci proposed," Shirley declared, clasping the startled woman's left hand. "When did he ask you?" 

"Christmas Eve." 

"Congratulations, Lieutenant." 

"Thank you, ma'am." 

"So, when's the big day?" 

"June 24th." 

"He shipped out this morning, didn't he?" 

Lt. Townsend sighed. "Yes, ma'am." 

Shirley patted her arm, gently. "Courage, my dear. It'll be June before you know it. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. Never had children of my own, so I enjoy helping out the younger officers when I can." 

"Thank you, ma'am." 

"Does anyone else know you are engaged?" 

"Lt. Thomas, Lt. Whitmore and Lt. Hardy do. But I had planned to start telling others today." 

"Good. It'd be hard to organize a bridal shower if it's a surprised to the _guests_." 

A smile crossed the young woman's face. "Yes, ma'am, it would." 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Beth kicked off her shoes and stretched out across her bed. She had gotten mixed reactions from her friends to her news. 

Quite a few of the other nurses couldn't believe Al had proposed. A good portion of those were sure he would change his mind. Samantha was the only one who actually told her she was making a mistake. She was no longer dating the Marine, and Beth wondered if Samantha was sincere or jealous. 

She studied the gold wings, thinking about the man who gave them to her. 

Beth carefully placed the wings next to Al's photograph, wondering how his friends and colleagues had reacted to the news. 

**SOMEWHERE AT SEA**

George watched as Al's plane taxied off the carrier. 

He looked out over the water, feeling an inner peace. George loved being at sea and believed he had been born in the wrong century. Back when sea travel was more prevalent, he could imagine himself at sea nearly 365 days a year. Flying also gave him a good feeling, but not as lasting as sailing. George was only truly happy when he was at sea. 

Feeling good about his life in general, he turned and made his way to the pilots ready room. 

The usual gang was assembled, engaged in a variety of activities ranging from eating to sleeping. George positioned himself at the podium in the front of the room. He had purposely waited until Al was on patrol before making this announcement. 

"Listen up, guys. We've got to come up with a way to throw a party." It wasn't the greatest beginning, but at least it got everyone's attention, including those who were asleep. 

"At sea? Some party," one snorted. 

"What for?" This was from Chip. 

George grinned. "Well, it's a bachelor party, actually" 

"A bachelor party? At sea? You're gonna pull some strings and get booze and women on board, George?" Chip asked. 

"I don't think I could persuade the Navy to go along with that, I'm afraid." 

"Man, it'll be a drag," Chip commented, shaking his head. "Who's this for, anyway?" 

Before he could answer one of the other pilots, a newer guy, spoke up. "Hey, why not ask Bingo? He might have a few ideas." 

"That's a thought," Chip added, nodding. 

"Uh, not if it's going to be a surprise." 

"What do you mean?" Chip asked, confused. 

"He means," Harm said, looking up from his book, "the party's for Al. Right?" 

George nodded. Chip and several others nearly fell out of their seats. "Al's getting married?" 

"Yes. June 24, 1961." 

"To who?" This, again, was from Chip. 

"Who do you think, dummy," Harm replied. 

"Miss Goody-Two-Shoes? What? Did he get her pregnant or something?" 

"I know it's a difficult concept for you, Chip," George replied, "but they're in love." 

Chip, still stunned, ignored the insult. "I can't believe it." 

"Just ask him yourself when he gets back." 

"George," Harm addressed him, "why not hold off until we get back?" 

"That's fine. But we still need to plan it, now, because of our time table. We're cutting it close, as it is. Any ideas?" 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Al climbed out of the cockpit and stretched. It was good to be flying long distances again, but the first trip was usually a sore one. 

He waited for the all-clear signal before crossing the busy deck. The familiar activities of launching and landing jets unfolded around him as he made his way to the hatch. 

Clustered around it was a small group of pilots, with George at the center. It didn't take a genius to realized who they were waiting for. 

"Is it true?" Chip asked without preamble. 

Al looked at George, who nodded. "Yeah, it is." 

Those of his friends who were truly happy for him were in the midst of congratulating him on his choice of brides. Al couldn't have agreed more. 

Chip wasn't among the well-wishers. He said something to Al, just as a fighter was taking off. 

"What?" Al shouted over the roar of the engines. 

"I said," Chip replied, once the level of noise dropped, "I think you're making a big mistake, buddy." 

Al opened the hatch and said, before stepping through, "You can think anything you damn well please." 

Chip followed him through. "Do you realize what marriage means?" 

"Yeah. So?" 

Chip proceeded to point out all the tings Al couldn't do if he was tied down to one woman. Al was only half listening. He had given a lot of thought to the idea of marrying Beth, and he was happy with his decision. Al had gone through all the arguments himself, and was positive that waking up with Beth was more appealing than waking up with a hangover. 

He heard the words 'wild sex'. 

_Ok, so I can't vouch for that, at the moment. But she scarfs up those novels like there's no tomorrow. That has to count for something. Maybe she's taking notes._

"You're crazy, Bingo." 

"Al." 

"What?" 

"Stop calling me Bingo, Chip." For some reason that nickname grated at his nerves lately. He wondered if, by proposing, he had passed into another phase of life. 

"See? She's changing you already." 

Al made no comment. He was almost at his cabin door. 

"Why'd you ask her to marry you?" 

Al paused and turned to face him. "What a stupid question, Chip! I love her. She loves me. I asked; she said yes. What part of that don't you understand?" 

Chip was serious and quiet. "I never thought that you'd finally settle down." 

"People change, Chip." 

Al entered his cabin and left Chip standing alone in the corridor. 


	17. Preparations

## **Chapter 16: Preparations**

**FRIDAY, MARCH 31, 1961, NURSES' BOQ, NAS PENSACOLA**

"Where's your address book, Beth?" Kelly asked as the three of them gathered around the little card table they had set up in Beth's room. 

"Start with the family first, Kelly," Janet advised as Beth turned away to get her address book. "Did Al give you a list of people he wanted to invite, Beth?" 

Beth retrieved the sheets of paper from her date book and handed them to Kelly. She went back to looking for her address book. 

"Is that all? None of these people seem to be family. At least, none of these people are Calaviccis," Kelly commented, after she had scanned the sheets. 

Beth, with her back to them, said, "Al was orphaned when he was young. He lost contact with his relatives." 

They were silent for a moment. Beth did not look at them. 

"Oh." Janet said, finally. 

Beth gave Kelly her address book and she immediately flipped to the T's. 

"There's only one Townsend." 

"That would be my grandmother." 

Kelly looked up from the address book, and Janet looked up from the notes she was making. "What's your mother's maiden name?" Kelly asked. 

Beth took a deep breath. "Townsend." 

Kelly and Janet exchanged glances. They seem to understand what she was implying. Beth felt relieved. There would be no need to go into great detail, and neither woman seemed to have a single clue as to ask any questions tactfully. For the moment, anyway. 

"I take it," Janet said, finally, "that you will not be given away?" 

"That was my intention." 

Kelly shifted awkwardly. "I always thought the reason you never mentioned your parents, was that you weren't on speaking terms with them. For weeks now, I've been dying to ask about them." 

Beth sigh. Well, it looked as if she did have to explain a few things after all. "My mother died when I was young." 

"So," Kelly said, dropping the subject and getting back to business. "Is there anyone in your address book you don't want to invite?" 

**SATURDAY, APRIL 8, 1961, EVERMORE CASTLE, ELKRIDGE, MARYLAND**

Adam browsed through the mail on his desk, separating them into neat piles: bills, personal, Victoria's, JP's, social invitations, junk, and anything address to him with the return address of The Department of the Navy. He considered this last pile, 'business'. 

The unfamiliar handwriting on the envelope postmarked 'Pensacola' caught his eye. Adam already knew what it contained, since Al had informed him in December, but he was surprised to see it anyway. 

_Is it that close already?_ he thought, carefully opening the invitation with his antique letter opener. 

He stared at the invitation, reading the words. Though he knew for several months now, Adam still felt the heartache of a father losing his daughter to another man in marriage. _My daughter is getting married, and I can't tell anyone. Can't_, he realized, wasn't really accurate. _Afraid_, was the better word. 

_At least she's marrying someone I have no objections to_, Adam thought. Regardless of his history, Adam had a great deal of respect for Al and held him in high regard. _Though, I couldn't object, if I did. Considering_, he thought wryly. 

It dawned on him that he would finally get to meet Betty's mother. _I wonder what she would say if I told her?_ Several possible scenarios went through his mind, none of them pleasant. He wouldn't dream of ruining Beth's day by making such an announcement. 

Picking up JP's stack, Adam rose from his desk with the wedding invitation in hand, and went looking for his father and wife. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Doris McGinty hummed cheerfully as she watched the mailman come up the front walk. She met him on the porch, chatted for several minutes, and then reentered her home. 

She leafed through the mail as she went to the dining room, where she normally left the mail for her husband and daughter. 

The last envelope was postmarked from Pensacola. Curious, Doris opened it. 

She nearly fainted when she saw it's contents. 

"Maureen!" 

She heard her daughter yell down, "Coming!" 

"What's wrong?" Maureen asked when she joined Doris in the dining room. 

Doris took a seat at the table. "Look what came in today's mail." 

Maureen took the invitation. Doris watched her daughter turn pale. 

"I don't believe this," she murmured. "This has to be some sort of joke." 

"It's no joke, Maureen." 

"Al would never marry such a plain Jane like her," Maureen said, almost indignant. "Besides, they just met." 

Doris finally had enough of her daughter's attitude and childish behavior. "Oh do grow up, Maureen," she snapped. "He's in love with her. To him, she's the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on." 

Maureen reacted as if she had been slapped. "But. . . I love him." 

"You had your chance, Maureen," she said firmly. "You couldn't except the fact he need to get out of Chicago, so he moved on without you." 

"But he and I . . . that is to say, we . . ." 

"Slept together? You didn't think I knew? I knew what the two of you were up to. I trusted him to be careful when it came to that. I also knew he _had_ given marriage to you some serious thought. He would have, if you hadn't thrown a fit over Annapolis and the Navy." 

Maureen's face was red with anger and hurt. "What about me? What about what I wanted?" 

"Compromise, Maureen. Marriages are compromises. You wouldn't compromise. Haven't you listened to a word I said?" Doris shook her head. "I regret that I hadn't given this speech to you years ago, Maureen. It's time for you to stop acting like a spoiled child and start behaving like a reasonable adult. Al's getting married, Maureen, and you just have to accept it." 

Her daughter turned and fled up the stairs. 

Doris sighed. It pained her to hurt Maureen like that but she had no other choice. Doris bent down and picked up the invitation that Maureen had dropped. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Maureen slammed her bedroom door behind her, just as the tears started down her checks. She threw herself across her bed and started sobbing into her pillow. 

Her mother's words had cut her like a knife. 

And the worst part was, her mother was right. 

Maureen had to face the reality that she had thrown away her chance to marry Al. No matter how much she tried to twist and turn the events, _she_ had been stubborn; _she_ hadn't listened to reason, _she_ wouldn't compromise. 

Her tears were the tears of regret. She cursed herself for her stupidity and her selfishness. She vowed silently never to make the same mistake again, and cried herself to sleep. 

**SATURDAY, APRIL 22, 1961, DIANA'S BRIDAL SHOP, PENSACOLA**

"Well, that should do it," the seamstress said, putting the finishing touches on Beth's gown. 

Beth turned and looked at her reflection. The lacy outer shell was short sleeve, with a low cut back, for comfort in the Florida heat. It tapered into a chapel length train. The satin underdress was strapless. 

"It's gorgeous, Beth," Janet said, a hint of jealousy in her voice. 

The seamstress indicated the display of sample headdresses. "You have to make up your mind, dear, about your headdress." 

Janet and Kelly talked her out of calla lilies, pleading with her that the church and reception would be flooded with her favorite flower. She settled on blush pink roses for her headdress. 

Beth disappeared into the changing room. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and began to think about her mother. She had been thinking about her a lot lately. Each time, she would start to cry. Her mother should have been the one helping her with the wedding arrangements, not Janet and Kelly. 

Beth blinked back the tears. She didn't want her friends to worry about her. 

"Beth, what's on for next Saturday?" Kelly asked, when Beth when she rejoined them. "Janet and I would like to take you to lunch, for your birthday." 

"Well, let's see. If Mrs. Mitchell can't get Helen over to the bridal shop after school Monday, I'll have to take her myself on Saturday." Helen was the daughter of Al's commanding officer, Commander Dennis Mitchell. Helen was going to be her flower girl. 

"Have any particular restaurant in mind?" 

"Gino's?" 

Kelly chuckled. "I would never have guessed." 

**SATURDAY, APRIL 29, 1961, THE LAYTON'S RESIDENCE, NAS PENSACOLA**

"You can never have too many toasters, Beth," Commander Layton told her after all the guests had left. 

Her friends had mislead Beth into thinking that they had intended to take her to lunch for her birthday. If Beth hadn't had so much on her mind, she would have seen right through them and realized that it was just a cover to get her to her bridal shower. She didn't even suspect them when they told her that the had to stop off and see Layton first. 

Now the four of them were in Layton's sitting room surrounded by gifts. All around them, boxes were stacked on tables, chairs, and the floor. There were kitchen appliances of ever type and size, countless cooking utensils, pots and pans galore, towels, linens, crystal and china. And, of course, the obligatory negligees. 

Layton kicked off her shoes and put her feet up on the coffee table. Janet and Kelly were taking inventory and annotating who gave what. 

"Have you closed on the house yet?" Layton asked. 

Beth sighed, weary. "It's almost ready. I can't wait. I plan to start with the minor upgrades and painting as soon as the ink is dry on the contract." 

"Need help?" Kelly asked. 

"Do I ever!" She paused, thoughtful. "But you've done so much already." 

Kelly shrugged. "I have no life, Beth. I have to do something on the weekends." 

"Me too," Janet added. 

Beth smiled at them. "Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me." 

Kelly grinned. "Think of it as a birthday present, since neither of us got you anything for your birthday." 


	18. Homecoming

Chapter 17: Homecoming

**Chapter 17: Homecoming**

**SATURDAY, JUNE 17, 1961, PENSACOLA REGIONAL AIRPORT**

"Where's Al?" Grace asked her granddaughter, as she was greet at the arrival gate. 

"The ship is late. It didn't come in yesterday, Gran." Beth couldn't keep the anxiety from her voice or her face. 

"Do you know why?" 

"No one would tell me," Beth replied. Her granddaughter looked worn out and emotionally drained. 

"Don't worry, angel. I'm sure he's alright." 

"But what if they don't get back by Friday?" 

"Beth dear, I know you anxious, but try not to worry just yet. It's possible that they'll be back in the next few days." 

"How can you tell me not to worry? I've got guests to think about," she said irritably. 

Grace blinked in surprise. Her mild Beth never spoke to her in that tone of voice, ever. 

Before she could recover from her shock, Beth was already apologizing. "I'm sorry Gran." 

Grace nodded, more concerned than angry. 

They picked up Grace's luggage in silence, which continued as Beth drove them back to the base. 

Grace understood her irritation. Beth had probably counted the days since he left and fully expected to have Al home by now. All that built up anticipation, and then to be told that the ship was late. It was a miracle Beth hadn't had a nervous breakdown. 

"I wish I had listened to Al," Beth said suddenly, startling Grace out of her reverie. 

"About what, angel?" 

"About waiting until this fall to be married," Beth replied tiredly. 

"Well, you know what they say about hindsight." 

They fell silent again. 

"We're staying at Commander Layton's," Beth informed her, as they drove through the main gate. 

"We?" 

"You and I. I packed up my things yesterday and moved out of the barracks." 

"Will I get to see your new house?" The couple had purchased a house. Beth had spent the last six weeks getting it ready. 

"Tomorrow," she replied. "I've finished the painting on Wednesday. I had hoped to pick out furniture with Al this weekend, have the carpet laid by Tuesday, and have the furniture move in on Wednesday. That way, we could spend Thursday and Friday unpacking." She sighed, pulling up into the Layton's driveway. "So much for that." 

Shirley Layton greeted Grace warmly and escorted her to one of the spare rooms. Beth disappeared into the other. 

Once Grace had unpacked and gotten settled in, she knocked on Beth's door and went in. 

"I just came to get a look at your dress, Beth." Her granddaughter was curled up on the bed, back to the door. Grace was beginning to worry about her. She had expected Beth to be so full of excitement, that she would not have waited for Grace to unpack before dragging her in to see the gown. 

Beth uncurled herself and got up. She opened the closet and removed the white plastic gown bag. Carefully draping it across the bed, she unzipped the bag. 

Grace gently removed the gown and held it up. "Oh angel, it's beautiful!" She was tempted to ask Beth to put it on, but decided against it. 

Beth had resumed her previous position, so Grace put the gown back in it's bag, and carefully hung it back in the closet. 

Grace studied her granddaughter. "Elizabeth, if you get like this every time he goes to sea, you'll give yourself a nervous breakdown." 

"That's only part of it, Gran," Beth quietly replied. 

Grace sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on Beth's back. "What is it, dear?" she asked soothingly. 

Beth sat up and Grace saw tears in her eyes. "I miss Mom and Grandpa Henry," she choked out." 

Grace pulled her granddaughter into her arms and gently rocked the quietly crying woman. "I miss them too, honey," she said sadly, stroking her hair. "Your grandfather would have loved walking you down the aisle." 

She stayed with Beth until she stopped crying. Beth then crawled under the blankets, exhausted. Grace kissed her on the forehead, before leaving the room. 

A short while later, as Grace was reading in the sitting room, Shirley came in and told her that Margaret Mitchell was there to see Beth. Mrs. Mitchell was the wife of Al's commanding officer. 

"Where's Beth?" Shirley asked. 

"Asleep." 

Mrs. Mitchell looked to be about thirty-six and Grace's idea of the typical officer's wife. "Hello, Mrs. Townsend. I have some news that your granddaughter will be happy to hear." 

"Oh?" 

"I've heard from my husband. He said that they should put into port sometime Monday. He doesn't know exactly what time though. I told him that I would meet him at our normal meeting spot, and I would bring Beth with me. Dennis will bring Al. It's better than trying to find each other in the crowd of other family members who gather to greet the ship." 

"Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell, I'll let Beth know." 

When she was gone, Grace breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully this news would ease Beth's mind a little. 

**MONDAY, JUNE 19, 1961, NAS PENSACOLA**

Beth was disappointed to learn that the Mitchell's special meeting spot was nothing more than the parking lot just off the docks. Beth waited with Mrs. Mitchell, Helen, and Gran for the crew to disembark. 

Gran was awed by the sight of carrier. It was the first time she had ever seen one up close. 

The waiting was unbearable. Beth wasn't sure how she made it through Sunday. She kept her promise and took Gran over to see the house. There, they met with Kelly and Janet. Beth didn't know where she'd had been without those two. 

"I thought pilots flew back to land," Beth heard Gran say to Mrs. Mitchell. 

"Sometimes they do." 

"Do officers disembark first?" 

"No, the enlisted crew disembarks first. Actually, I think it's the practice of this captain to allow new fathers, men who's children were born while they were at sea, to disembark first, then the enlisted crew." 

"Oh, that's a nice custom. Don't you think, Beth?" 

"Hmmm." 

It seemed like hours before she saw the two figures moving toward them across the parking lot. Beth wasn't sure, due to the distance and glare of the sun, if it was Al and Commander Mitchell. However, Helen's delighted squeal confirmed their identities. The only thing keeping Helen from bolting across the parking lot, was her mother's grip. There were cars, not many, driving through the lot. 

The only thing keeping Beth rooted to her spot, was the wave of relief that washed over her. It left her weak-kneed. Though she wanted to run to him, she felt she'd never make it, and the last thing she needed was to be hit by a car. 

Once she could make out his smiling face clearly, her legs finally cooperated. She rushed into his waiting arms. "Al!" 

His arms closed around her tightly. He tilted her head slightly kissed her deeply. Beth had almost forgotten what it was like to held and kissed by him. Al was quite eager to remind her. 

"We're going to have pry them apart," she heard Commander Mitchell say to the others. 

Al gently pulled away and looked directly into her eyes. "I missed you." 

"I've missed you too, Al. Want to come with us to Layton's or would you rather go back to the barracks first?" 

"Layton's will be fine," he replied, kissing her again. It was a short kiss. 

Gran came up to the couple. Al leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She beamed delightedly at him. She also looked relieved. "Welcome home, Al dear." 

Beth slid one arm around Al's waist, and the other around Gran's, and the three of them walked back to her car. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Between lunch and dinner, Beth took Al over to the house. He was delighted with her choice and impressed with her handiwork. He listened to her plans and her rationale for setting up the house prior to their honeymoon. 

"I really don't want to come back to all that unpacking. I really hope to get most of that taken care of in the next few days." 

He looked thoughtful. "It makes sense. We would only have to worry about the finishing touches when we got back." 

"Exactly." She paused. "Are you still planning on going to Chicago in August?" Al hadn't discussed with her his plans to visit Trudy's grave yet. 

He nodded. 

"Then I'll go with you." 

"I was hoping you would." 

After looking over the house, they went back to Layton's and went over the wedding plans. They sat together on Layton's couch, comfortable and relaxed. Beth had been a little uneasy about dumping all this on him on his first day back, but he was taking in stride and was happy as long as they were together. 

He was surprised when he saw the guest list. "Maureen's not coming? And only Adam is coming?" 

"Apparently JP wanted to come too, but his doctors refused to allow it. He called me, by the way, to congratulate us and apologize for not being able to be there." She paused. "He also told me that Adam was going to make Victoria come, but they had a huge argument in the middle of last month and she moved out." 

Al's jaw dropped. "You're joking." 

Beth shook her head. "JP was serious. I don't think either have filed for divorce." 

Al was still in a state of shock. "George never breathed a word." 

Beth snorted. "He probably doesn't know yet." 

Al thought about it. "That's true," he conceded. 

"As for Maureen," Beth said, returning to the original topic. "She's jealous of me, Al. Doris called. She wasn't very specific about the reason, but I knew." 

"I see Edward's fiancee's name, but where's Edward?" Al asked, skimming the names. 

"Oh, I forgot. I hired him to be the photographer." 

They continued on with the wedding plans until dinner. They celebrated Al's birthday belatedly with ice cream and the cake Gran had baked. The look on his face during the singing told Beth that he'd probably never had a birthday party with cake, ice cream and singing, since his mother left, if at all. It made her wonder if the McGinty's had ever done anything special for him on his birthday. 

After the impromptu party, Commander Layton and her husband played card in the dining room, and Gran went upstairs to read. Al led her to the sitting room. 

He turned on the stereo, searching for a station. Once he found one he was happy with, he pulled Beth into his arms, and they danced slowly. 

"Do you realize that tomorrow is the first anniversary of our first date?" he asked her softly. "I was just remembering the first time I saw you." 

Beth chuckled. "When we collided with each other in the hospital?" 

"Hmmm. From that moment, you've not been far from my mind." 

Beth buried her face against his neck. His arms tightened around her and he buried his face in her hair. 

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it back in time," she whispered. 

"Mitchell told me he would have asked the captain to send me back early, if we weren't home by this Wednesday." 

"That was nice of him." 

"Well, the captain has grown daughters, so he knows what wedding plans are like. Mention the words 'no refund' around him and he would have seen to it, personally, that I made it back for our wedding," Al explained. "Oh, and speaking of Commander Mitchell, he invited me to stay with them until Saturday. I'll move out of the barracks tomorrow." 

"We're going furniture shopping tomorrow," she reminded him. 

"After that." 

Beth sighed, looking up at his face. "This is probably the last quiet moment we have." 

"Until Saturday evening, that is." He was quiet for a moment. "Speaking of which, you haven't told me what you got for your shower." 

An eavesdropper would never have understood the connection. Beth did, but she played innocent. "Five toasters." 

"Five? That's an awful lot of toast. Anything else?" 

"The usual things," she replied, smiling. 

"Can I see?" 

"No. They're packed already. Besides, I thought you liked surprises." 

Al stopped dancing, astonished. "You're already packed for the honeymoon? My, aren't we a little anxious?" he commented, impressed. 

Beth giggled, as they resumed dancing. "With the schedule I have, when else was I going to pack?" 

"Hmmm. Good point." 

Something occurred to Beth. "When's your bachelor party?" 

"I haven't a clue. I know George was planning it, but no one has told me when it is." 

"I bet it was for this past Friday or Saturday evening." 

Al frowned slightly. "I don't think so, Beth. He wasn't too upset to learn we wouldn't be home by Friday afternoon." He paused, thoughtful. "I certainly hope it's not for this Friday. If it is, I'm not going." 

It was Beth's turn to look astonished. "Why not?" 

"Never plan a bachelor party for the night before the wedding. The first party I ever attended, right after graduating from Annapolis, was held the night before the wedding. Every one was hung over the next morning, and the groom and the brothers of the bride got into a brawl at the wedding reception. Actually, in this case it should be said, never invite the brothers of the bride to the bachelor party." He paused. "I felt sorry for the poor bride." 

She smiled at him. "Well, the rehearsal dinner is Friday night, and I'm sure George knew that." 

"Hmm. I'll just have to keep my evenings free for the rest of the week." 

They continued dancing, arms wrapped tightly around each other, for several more hours. It was nearly midnight before Al left. 

And for the first time in nearly a week, Beth had no trouble getting to sleep. 

  
Author: Christina L. Bartruff 


	19. One More Day

Chapter 18: One More Day

**Chapter 18: One More Day**

**THURSDAY, JUNE 22, 1961, MITCHELL RESIDENCE**

Al pulled up to the Mitchell residence, weary and hungry. 

In an effort to get their home ready, Al and Beth had spent the last three days shopping, laying carpet, and moving furniture (then re-arranging it, because she didn't like the way it looked). Janet and Kelly were there most of the time, and a few of his friends pitched in, but the bulk of the work still fell to them.. Tomorrow, they would finish hanging the curtains and maybe start unpacking a few boxes and hang some things on the walls. 

All Al wanted right now was a hot meal, and hot bath, and a warm bed. Not necessarily in that order either. He could forgo the meal, and the mere thought of drawing a bath was tiring. 

He was met by Mrs. Mitchell as he came through her kitchen on the way to their den. "Dinner will be a little late, Al." 

He nodded. 

Helen was already in there, playing with her Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls. He smiled sleepily at the little girl and she readily smiled back. She returned to her little game, leaving him in peace as he stretched out on the couch. 

He closed his eyes and in seconds, was sound asleep. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Margaret Mitchell placed the last pan on the table as her husband walked through the door. 

She greeted him with a kiss. "I'll get Al and Helen, while you change. Don't be long, though." 

Margaret entered her den, about to speak, when she realized her houseguest was asleep. Helen, playing quietly nearby, made shushing noises at her. 

She carefully approached the sleeping figure and lightly brushed his forehead. He didn't have a temperature. When he passed her earlier, she thought he looked a little too pale. 

_I'll let him sleep_. 

Margaret gathered up her daughter and the dolls, and carefully closed the den door behind her. 

"Where's Al?" Dennis asked, when they joined him in the dining room. 

"He's asleep," Helen informed her father, matter-a-factly. 

"Let him sleep, Dennis. The poor man looked worn out. I'll put a plate aside for him, just in case he does wake up later." 

"Uh, Margaret, he has some place to be tonight." He threw a quick glance at Helen. 

Margaret understood. "That's tonight?" 

"When else could it be?" 

Margaret shook her head. It wasn't her business to tell the young man what to do, but she felt that he needed to rest. "You can wake him, if you want. Personally, I think he'll fall asleep again before you get to. . .wherever this. . .party is being held." 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

George pulled up to the Mitchell residence and noted that Al's car was there. 

He wasn't exactly happy with the fact the he had no other choice but to hold Al's party tonight. Al's own personal preference aside, Janet had already planned the rehearsal dinner for Friday. On top of that, Thursday night turned out to be the only night that Gino would close the restaurant to the public for a private party. It turned out to be a blessing that he couldn't persuade the restaurant owner to close on last weekend. 

Al hadn't asked him about the party, but knowing Al, he probably had all the details already. 

Mrs. Mitchell greeted him at the door with a funny look. She led him to the den and opened the door. 

George's jaw dropped. Al was sound asleep. 

"Are you going to wake him?" Mrs. Mitchell asked him in a low voice. 

"He'll be upset if he misses his own party," George replied, in a low tone. 

"He'll sleep right through it." 

"I seriously doubt that, ma'am." 

She said nothing. "Al?" George called out, in a slightly louder than normal tone. 

Al didn't move a muscle. 

Before he could do anything more, he heard Commander Mitchell behind him. "Lieutenant?" 

He turned to face his commanding officer. 

"Let him sleep." 

"Sir, I think he would want us to wake him." 

"Lieutenant, my wife is right." 

George sighed, glancing back at the sleeping figure. He knew Al enough to also know that he had to be pretty exhausted. It took a great deal to tire out the wiry pilot. For Al to be zonked out on the couch, he had to be stretched to the limit. 

George followed the Mitchells out, closing the door behind him. 

**FRIDAY, JUNE 23, 1961, MITCHELL RESIDENCE**

Al stretched, without opening his eyes, wondering if dinner was ready yet. 

The smells that drifted into the den were of bacon and eggs. 

Confused, Al opened his eyes and saw sunlight peeking through the shades. 

He sat up and looked at his watch. He had slept for over twelve hours. Al couldn't remember when he had last done that. His stomach was rumbling, having not be fed since lunch the day before. 

Al wandered down the hall, rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

Helen was sitting at the table, waiting for her breakfast. She smiled at him. He returned it. Helen giggled at him. In the short time he'd known her, Al came to realize that she wasn't a very talkative child, but smiled a lot and loved to laugh. 

Mrs. Mitchell came out of the kitchen just then with Helen's plate. 

"Well, I see you've decided to rejoin the living. You must be starving." 

Al yawned and nodded. 

Before Mrs. Mitchell turned away, Helen spoke up. "You missed your party." 

Al looked at her mother, confused. "What party?" 

"The one George Whitmore organized," she replied, giving him a knowing look. 

Al's brain wasn't fully awake, so he stared at her idiotically until the light clicked on in his head. _The bachelor party!_ "That was last night?" 

"Didn't you know?" 

"No. In fact," Al said, leaning his elbows on the table to support his head. "I completely forgot about the whole thing." His mind had been preoccupied with the house, the wedding, and Beth, that he never gave the party another thought since Monday. "George is going to kill me." 

"He was here last night. He tried to wake you, but Dennis and I convinced him that were too tired." 

"Yeah, I would have been the life of the party," Al replied drily. 

"Anyway, he didn't look too upset. Disappointed, maybe, and a little concerned that _you_ would be mad at missing it, but he wasn't homicidal." 

She disappeared into her kitchen, leaving him stunned. 

He, Al Calavicci, had forgotten his own _bachelor party_. The man who had organized some of the wildest parties, had literally slept through one. There was no way he could live this one down. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Beth carefully stacked the last of her new dishes in the cupboard. 

Down the hall, she could hear Kelly and Janet as they stocked up the linen closet with the towels, linens, and toiletries. Beth was happy with the way things were progressing. 

She heard the front door open and looked out to see Al. He saw her and came into the kitchen. She kissed him warmly. 

Judging by his damp hair, the smell of shaving cream, and the taste of toothpaste, she gathered he hadn't been up long. "Sleep in?" 

He kissed her again before answering. "Yes." 

Beth studied him with a critical eye. "Look's like you could've slept in a little while longer." 

"I know, but if I did, I'd have a hard time getting to sleep tonight," Al replied, smoothing back a stray lock of hair. "I don't want to sleep through the wedding ceremony too." 

"'Too'?" 

Al nodded. "I crashed out on the sofa last night, before dinner. They let me sleep. Turns out, the party was last night." 

"Oh, Al," she said sympathetically. "I'm sorry you missed it." 

Al did a double take, realized that she was sincere, and started laughing. He pulled her gently into his arms. "Beth, you're amazing. You're the only woman I know that would feel that way about her groom's bachelor party." 

She slid her arms around his neck. "You've behaved yourself for a whole year. I think you would have behaved yourself for one more night." 

His expression grew serious and he began to kiss her again. She ran her fingers through his slightly damp hair, and was dimly aware that he had more on his mind then just kissing. For the first time, she gave no thought of stopping him and he knew it. One more day wasn't going to make that much difference. 

Al was kissing her neck when she finally remembered something important. "Al," she whispered into his ear, "we're not alone in the house." 

He moved his lips up to her ear. "Kelly and Janet?" 

She nodded. "I'll tell them we'll finish up here." 

"Please do," he whispered, before kissing her again. 

Before Beth could pull away, the door bell startled them. 

Al swore softly, pulling away. "I'll get it!" he yelled down the hallway, for the benefit of the two nurses. 

Once he was out of sight, Beth leaned against the wall, collecting herself. Though they had been interrupted before they could get very far, Beth still checked to make sure all the buttons on her blouse were buttoned. She smoothed down the front of her skirt. 

The new arrival turned out to be George. The others were already greeting him. 

"How'd it go last night?" Al was asking. 

"The guys were disappointed," George replied. 

"I'm sorry George. I forgot all about it," Al apologized, sinking into a chair. 

"We'll live," he said, shrugging it off. "We still had the party, just no guest of honor." 

Kelly looked from one to the other. "You still had the party?" 

George shrugged again. "Why not? Everything was already paid for. Why waste good money?" 

"Well," Al said, getting up from the chair. "You don't have to stick around here, George. The work's almost done." He glanced, almost as if in afterthought, at the two nurses. As casually as possible, he said to them, "If you two have things to do for tonight, go ahead and go. There's no need for you to stick around." 

Beth held her breath. 

"Um, Al," George said, obviously aware of the real reason he was kicking the three of them out, "I think you should know that my father, Mrs. Townsend, Eddie, Daphne, and the McGintys, are on their way over. They were a few minutes behind me." 

"Well, we can give them a quick tour of the house," Al said, shrugging. 

"They're coming with gifts and a picnic lunch. It's suppose to be a surprise from Doris and Don," he added. 

Al glanced at Beth, clearly disappointed. "Figures," he said drily. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

"It's nine-thirty, Al," Beth murmured against Al's cheek. 

"I know," he said against her temple. 

Once again, they were sitting on the Layton's couch. From the kitchen and dining area, they could hear the sounds of Gran, the commander, and Kelly cleaning up after the rehearsal dinner. 

For the last half hour, Al and Beth sat in the dimly lit room, snuggled together on the couch, not saying a word. All previous attempts to be alone that afternoon had failed. First the surprise housewarming picnic, then the nearly overlooked meeting with the chaplain who would perform the ceremony, and finally the rehearsal and the dinner. 

"Just think," he said, "by this time tomorrow, we'll be in Niagara." 

Beth smiled ruefully. "Right now, I can't think past twelve hours from now." She snuggled closer, feeling nervous. Al wrapped his arms around her tighter. 

Gran chose that moment to step into the doorway. She had a determined, no-nonsense look on her face. She pointed at Beth. "You, upstairs," she commanded, and then pointed at Al. "You, out." 

Neither moved, startled by her brisk tone and expression. 

Al recovered first, turning on the charm. "Just half an hour more, Gran." 

"No," she informed him, firmly. 

"How about twenty?" he bargained. 

She shook her head. 

"Fifteen?" 

"No, Al." 

"Ten? 

"Absolutely not." 

"How about five?" 

Beth giggled. 

"Al, out." 

Al heaved a sigh. "Oh, alright, if it makes you happy." 

The couple rose together. Al, still holding her, was determined to prolong their parting for another five minutes. He cupped her face in his hands. "See you tomorrow, honey. I'll be waiting. Don't be late." 

"I won't," she promised softly. "I love you." 

"I love you, too." He drew her closer and kissed her deeply. 

Beth was acutely aware of her grandmother still standing in the door way; however she did not interrupt their kiss. 

"Happy?" Al grumbled, approaching Gran. 

"I'm dancing for joy," she replied drily. 

He studied her a moment, then grinned. "Goodnight, Gran," he said, kissing her affectionately. 

"That won't work this time, mister," she informed him. 

"It doesn't hurt to try," he replied, lightly. He smiled once more at Beth and then he was gone. 

Gran turned her attention to Beth. "To bed, young lady. Now." 

In spite of the brisk tone, Beth found herself smiling at her grandmother. She saluted. "Aye-Aye, captain." 

  
Author: Christina L. Bartruff 


	20. To Have and To Hold

Chapter 19: To Have and To Hold

**Chapter 19: To Have and To Hold**

**SATURDAY, JUNE 24, 1961, MAIN POST CHAPEL**

George paced the anteroom, more nervous than the groom, or so it seemed on the surface. The only indicators that Al was nervous were his distracted look and the continual glances at his watch. Even during breakfast at Bob's Diner, as they reminisced over the past year, Al _looked_ completely calm. However, Al couldn't finish his breakfast, and he kept checking the time. 

Al glanced at his watch. "She should be leaving the house in about five minutes," he informed George. This time, George noticed a slight tremor to Al's hand as he straightened the cuff of his crisp white uniform. 

George stopped pacing and looked out into the sanctuary. The guests were getting settled. Eddie and Daphne where unpacking the camera. 

"I think you're right, Al," he said over his shoulder. "I see Eddie and I think Mrs. Townsend just entered. Yep, that's her coming down the aisle with a member of the honor guard." 

Everywhere George looked, there were vases of Beth's favorite flower, decorated with bows in pastel colors. Her grandmother was wearing a pale shade of purple. As expected, most of the guests were dressed in dress whites. There were a few Marines in dark blue, and at least five Army nurses that Beth had become friends with at joint services training seminar. 

George saw the McGintys, the Laytons, and the Mitchells. Janet was going up and down the aisle, greeting guests and trying to balance out the seating. 

George was shocked to see Chip. He hadn't expected to see him here. Al had pretty much avoid the other pilot during the cruise, and Chip's opinion of the whole thing hadn't changed. 

"She should be on her way," Al said, updating him. 

George still had his back to Al. He nodded absently, frowning. He scanned the sea of Navy uniforms. "Where's my father?" 

Al came up behind him them, and peered over his shoulder. He waved to the McGintys, who spotted him standing behind George. "Maybe he's looking for a parking spot." 

"Dad's using the limo. The driver would have dropped him off at the door first." George reminded him. "Maybe something's come up." 

"JP?" Al asked, concerned. 

"God, I hope not." 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Beth sat nervously, with Kelly and Helen, waiting for the limo that would take them to the chapel. Gran and the others had already left. 

"The limo should be here by now," Beth said, nervously toying with the pale pink roses in her bouquet. 

Kelly glanced sympathetically at her. "He still has a few more minutes, Beth." 

"I don't want to be late." 

"I know. You won't be, trust me," she said, soothingly. "And even if you are a few minutes late, it won't be enough time for Al to decide that you're not coming at all. 

Beth continued to toy with the flowers in her bouquet. Very soon, she would be Mrs. Albert Calavicci. She felt exhilarated and nervous. 

The door bell ran, startling the already edgy bride. Kelly peered out the window. 

"It's Admiral Whitmore," she declared, surprised. 

This brought Beth immediately to her feet. Panicking, she hurried to the door, with Kelly and Helen in her wake. "My God, something's happened to Al." 

Beth threw open the door with such force, she startled the man standing on the other side. 

Admiral Whitmore, as expected, was in his whites. Though concerned for Al, Beth instinctively reacted to the person in front of her and saluted. 

Mildly surprised, he returned it. "You look absolutely beautiful, Lieutenant," he said, sincerely. There was an odd look in his eyes. 

"Sir, is Al alright? Did something happen?" 

He stared at her puzzled. "He's fine, Lieutenant. In fact, he and George should already be at the chapel." He paused, realization finally dawning. "You think that's why I'm here, because something happened to him?" 

Beth nodded, still apprehensive. 

The admiral took her trembling hands in his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you like that, my dear," he said soothingly. "May I come in?" 

His soothing voice and gentle touch calmed Beth down considerably. "Please." 

Backing up in a wedding gown turned out to be tricky, but with Kelly's help, no one stepped on her modest train. 

"I've come to ask you for a small favor, Lieutenant. I noticed last night, at the rehearsal, that you have no one to escort you down the aisle. I was wondering if you would allow me to be your escort?" 

Kelly gasped, startled, and Beth just stared at him. 

Without his wife around, Adam Whitmore-Jones became more ordinary. Yesterday, he had kept Gran company, and Beth had nearly forgotten who and what he was. The request seemed innocent enough. Al was considered honorary member of the family, so it was only natural that he would take some interest in her. She also remembered that George's twin sister had died, and this was the perfect chance to stand in as father of the bride. He was staring at her, waiting patiently for her answer. There was something akin to pride in his eyes, and he seemed wistful. Beth was sure he was thinking of his daughter. 

Seeing no real harm in the request, and realizing that she may need someone to hold on to, Beth nodded. "Thank you, Admiral. I would be honored." 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Grace craned her neck to see if there was any activity going on in the back of the chapel. Still nothing. She wasn't late yet, but Grace worried nonetheless. 

Edward St. John came out of the little office on Grace's left and shook his head at George, who was standing in the doorway to the anteroom. A relieved, but perplexed look crossed his face. 

Grace caught Edward's attention. "What's wrong?" 

"We are trying to locate Admiral Whitmore. I just called Maryland to see if Admiral Jones' health had anything to do with his absence. It doesn't, thankfully." 

"Oh, I'm sure it didn't. After all, someone would have come for you and your cousin. I'm sure it's nothing serious." 

Janet nudged her. "They're closing the doors." 

Grace turned, just in time to see the honor guard close the inner doors, signaling the arrival of the bride. 

George and Al, both relieved to hear the news about Admiral Jones, came out of the anteroom. George was checking for the rings, more to reassure Al than himself. 

She caught Al's eye and he winked at her, face solemn. Grace smiled and winked back. 

Taking a cue from the chaplain, the organist began to play, as the doors reopened. 

Grace turned and watched little Helen as she walked confidently down the aisle, all smiles and giggles. 

Next came Kelly, trying her best to look demure, with head bowed. Grace could see the Cheshire Cat like grin on her face, as if she were privy to some huge joke. Grace wondered what the young woman was up to. 

She didn't wonder long. Behind Kelly, Beth appeared on the arm of Admiral Whitmore-Jones. There were quite a few startled gasps and murmuring as the congregation realized who was escorting the bride. 

Grace glanced at George. The admiral's son was staring at the approaching bridal party, stunned. Even Edward, standing next to him ready to snap a picture of the advancing party, did a double take. 

The only person oblivious to the admiral's presence, was Al. The young pilot only had eyes for one person in that chapel. The person escorting the bride could have been the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Al would not have noticed. 

Grace turned back to watch her granddaughter. 

The bride's face was all but obscured by her veil she wore, but Admiral Whitmore wore a solemn expression. As Beth drew nearer, Grace could clearly see the death-grip her granddaughter had on the admiral's arm. Beth's entire bouquet, gripped just as tight, quivered. 

Grace's breath caught in her throat and her heart gave a painful little tug, when she realized that Beth hadn't looked in her direction. Beth sought out one face, and once she found it, she didn't look away. 

Even with the rehearsal, Helen still sat on the wrong side. Instead of taking a seat next to Grace, she took the empty spot beside Daphne. 

Admiral Whitmore's presence posed another problem, a problem that apparently been discussed by the admiral, the bride and the maid of honor. Traditionally, the father of the bride would continue on with the rest of party as it advanced in front of the chaplain. Instead, the admiral brought Beth to a stop next to Al and Kelly took her bouquet. Beth took Al's arm as she let go of the admiral's. 

Once the bride and groom had continued, Admiral Whitmore took the seat next to Grace. He offered her an extra hanky, and passed another to Janet. 

Grace didn't kid herself into thinking that she wouldn't cry. She only wished she could see their faces during the ceremony. 

Beth sounded so nervous as she said "I do." Even so, there was no hint of hesitation in her voice. Al's voice didn't waver. In fact, it sounded as if he was daring anyone to contradict him. As they said their vows, Beth's voice sounded less and less nervous. 

By the time George handed over the rings, Grace could no longer clearly make out the couple through her tears. Admiral Whitmore patted her hand, comfortingly, from time to time. 

"You may kiss the bride." 

Al turned toward Beth and carefully lifted the veil. Grace saw the tender expression on his face as he moved to kiss her. 

The music began and the couple turned to walk down the aisle. Beth looked radiant and very happy. Al still wore the same expression, and he was smiling at his wife. 

Grace dabbed her eyes and took Admiral Whitmore's arm. They fell in behind Kelly and George as they passed. 

"That was a very nice gesture, Admiral," she whispered to her escort. "Giving her away, I mean." 

"It seemed the appropriate thing to do," he whispered back. 

As the newly married couple passed under the arch of steel, Admiral Whitmore snagged his son's arm. 

"I want you, Lt. Hardy, and Helen to ride with us." 

"Yes, sir." 

"To give them some privacy," he explained. 

"Understood," George replied. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

With Al's help, Beth carefully climbed into the waiting limo. Once situated, he climbed in next to her. 

The driver closed the door and the couple, bewildered, looked out the window. 

"What about..." Beth began, and then she saw Admiral Whitmore herd the rest of the bridal party into his limo. 

"Well," Al said, pleased. "It looks like we're alone." 

"That was sweet of him," Beth commented, laying aside the bouquet. 

Al turned his attention back to her. He grinned. "I didn't get the chance to tell you earlier, because I couldn't get a word in edgewise, that you look beautiful." 

"Thank you," she said, turning pink. 

"I love the dress, by the way." 

She couldn't reply to that, since he decided to kiss her. 

The reality still hadn't hit her and she fleetingly wondered whether it was the same for him. 

They didn't part again, until the limo pulled up in front of the officers' club. 

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

The bouquet and garter had been tossed, the cake had been cut, and the toasts had been made. Now, the only thing left was the dancing. 

Al lead Beth out on to the dance floor, for their first dance. Naturally, it was "Georgia On My Mind." 

It was there, as she looked into his dark eyes, that it finally hit Beth. They were married. She was his wife and he, her husband. 

He seemed to know what she thinking. "I love you, Elizabeth Calavicci." 

_Elizabeth Calavicci_. That was the first time anyone had addressed her by her new name, and it was only fitting that it be her husband. 

She touched his cheek. "I love you, Al." 

Al kissed her softly once, and she lay her head on his shoulder as they danced. She saw Gran and Admiral Whitmore watching them. Gran smiled at her. 

Beth looked up at Al, and then smiled at her grandmother. 

  
Christina L. Bartruff 


	21. Epilogue

Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**SUNDAY, AUGUST 13, 1961, OUR LADY OF MERCY CEMETERY**

He wasn't alone this time. 

Mariana had hoped to see Albert again. She was afraid he would not be there this year. Her worries were unfounded. 

Walking hand-in-hand with her handsome son, was a lovely, dark haired woman who looked amazingly like the new President's wife. 

_I wonder who she is?_

The young woman reached up to adjust her purse strap. The sunlight glinted off something on her hand. Mariana caught her breath. _She's his wife! I wonder how long they've been married?_ She smiled. Mariana studied her daughter-in-law speculatively, wondering if she was expecting. She hoped that the next time she saw them, she would have a grandchild. 

The lovely young woman was watching her son with such love and compassion, Mariana's heart ached. Like the previous year, Albert seemed intent on his sister's grave, barely aware of the woman at his side. She put a comforting arm around his shoulders. The couple stood there for several minutes more, longer than Albert had done the year before. Neither spoke. 

Albert and his wife slowly turned away. Mariana watched their retreating backs, until she lost sight of them, and then she too, turned away. 

  
Author: Christina L. Bartruff 


End file.
